Secrets of Hoia Baciu
by gotosleeplove
Summary: Harper and her friends decide to visit the Hoia Baciu forest after hearing all its haunting stories. Only, they find them to be true. After learning its secrets, she was met with several strange beings. As feelings begin to grow, the only question is for whom they will be for? Includes Slenderman, Jeff the Killer, Eyeless/Laughing Jack, Ben Drowned, Bloody Painter and more.
1. Chapter 1

_While reading about the Hoia Baciu forest, I couldn't help but notice the connections made throughout the stories told of it. Ideas continued to grow, and I couldn't help but make it the setting of this story. If you have any spare time, I really recommend you look up this haunted forest. Hope you all enjoy!_

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 **Chapter 1  
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The mysterious land caused stories to develop for ages. At first, little knew of the forest's secrets. The unnerving atmosphere, the dread that clung to the air with a vicious grip. Yet as the years passed by, more and more came to know of the legends. As the word traveled, more and more decided to pay a visit to the harsh woods, testing its authenticity. The trees welcomed their arrival, praying on their psych and sometimes taking them whole.

Although the stories offered no explanation, a truth lingered. One that not a single oblivious human knew. The ringing that whistled through the trees had a source. The voices were no ghosts. The sudden illness ones would experience had reason. The black mist was not a trick of the eye, nor were the bright green eyes that seemed to watch wanderers with bloodlust. More importantly, the circular amount of land in the middle of the forest refused to let anything grow because something was already there. But no one can see it.

The Hoia Baciu forest has been known as one of the most haunted forests in the world. This only drew paranormal lovers to it like glue, including a group of teenagers who currently trailed at its edge. Traveling to Romania had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. But now, peering into the depths of the trees only made the hairs on the back of a young girl's neck rise.

She chewed on her bottom lip as her friends conversed, the excitement within their voices causing her stomach to curl. There was no backing down, now. They would never let her live it down.

"I can't believe we're actually here," Charlotte breathed, her eyes as wide as saucers as she stared into the woods. The furious wind caused her pale hair to rush forward, barely held back from the ponytail.

"Believe it. It was a dreadfully long trip, so you had plenty of time to get used to the idea," Lyric scowled, his bleak features never seeming to change. He was the hardest to win over when it involved going on the trip. It was difficult enough trying to get him out of his house. The young hermit hated the world around him, preferring to stay cooped up in the safety of his home.

"Come on, man, try to enjoy yourself when you're out and about! Due to the rarity of it, you might as well get something out of it," Oliver snickered, his crooked grin bold across his face.

Harper stared at her friends, unable to help but smile. She would never dream of going into this forest alone. But at least the three of them were with her.

"How could I possibly enjoy wandering around a forest at night? Not to mention the possibility of getting lost," Lyric spat, his dark eyes penetrating through Oliver as he glared.

"Your main concern is getting lost?" Charlotte hesitantly laughed. "I'm more worried about the stories," she added, her voice trickling away.

Lyric let out a harsh snort, shaking his head. "That just shows your naivety if you believe any of that. They are stories. I'm hoping after this night you all will get over your childish fantasies of paranormal horror."

"You are seriously no fun, man. Where is your sense of excitement? Adventure?" Oliver's smile never faltered. His warm brown eyes always had a bright twinkle to them, no matter the amount of coldness Lyric emitted.

"I'm a realist," Lyric curtly replied, brushing a strand of his black hair out from in front of his eyes.

"But Lyric! How could so many people say the same thing? Hearing voices and giggles? Strange lights and figures?" Charlotte persuaded.

"Idiotic people who have active imaginations," he brushed off, situating his bag on his shoulder.

"How about the little girl who got lost in the woods when she was five? Then returned from the woods years later, with no memory of what happened? Or the odd circle of land where nothing grows? Explain that Mr. Realist," she grinned, triumphantly.

He shrugged. "A loony girl and bad soil. You are truly going to believe what they say about a different dimension?"

Charlotte's deflated expression turned to one of pure anger. Harper let out a deep sigh, knowing she would have to intervene before the fighting started. They hadn't even entered the forest yet and Lyric was getting on everyone's nerves.

"Okay, can we go on in? I've been waiting over here, but you all seem to prefer talking," she murmured, tightly crossing her arms. In all honesty, she wasn't eager to enter these woods. But it was better than staying out here.

Walking forward, she entered the forest, listening to the leaves crinkle below her booted feet. She heard everyone follow behind her, along with the bickering between Charlotte and Lyric. Oliver caught up to her side, seeming to be in no mood to endure the negativity between them.

"So, Harper. You haven't said much since we got here. What do you think about the forest?" he asked, his bright, dimpling smile causing her to mimic it.

"Can't say much, yet. Although it doesn't seem to be a very good place." Her smile vanished as she stared up through the branches of the trees at the setting sun. Soon, they would have no light at all. Her stomach did flips as she stared at the strange trees that surrounded them. They curved low to the ground before shooting high into the hair. The limbs twisted in odd angles as if screaming that there was something wrong with this land. To run away.

"Yeah, this place gives me the creeps. Doesn't mean it won't be fun, though!"

Harper smiled, enjoying Oliver's upbeat personality at this moment. They would more than likely lose it by the night's end without it. The longer they walked, the more eerie their surroundings became. The sunlight had faded to pitch black, flashlights now being their only guide. The only sounds were the crackling leaves and the occasional sigh from Lyric.

Eventually, Oliver deemed that they had gone long enough to set up camp for the night. Harper thankfully rested her back against one of the odd trees as the boys set up their tent. Charlotte sluggishly wandered to her side, letting out a huff of air.

"Well, not much has happened yet," she whispered, a dejected gleam to her icy eyes.

Harper grinned, shaking her head. "Do you want something to happen?" she chortled, brushing a lock of her waving hair behind her ear. "Besides. We still have the rest of the night."

"It's not that I want something to happen," Charlotte shrugged, before throwing a piercing look in Lyric's direction. "I just don't want him to be right. Think about it, Harper, we'll never hear the end of it."

"It _was_ your idea for a vacation," Harper snickered, trying to ignore the aggravated expression Charlotte now wore. "We could have gone anywhere. But you wanted to go to a haunted forest, of all places."

"Hey, Oliver backed me up!"

"And everyone knows why," Harper grinned, a malicious glint in her chocolate eyes. She didn't miss the round of color that spilled into Charlotte's cheeks as her head snapped away.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Before Harper could reply, the boys had finished setting up the tent. Oliver's bright smile lit across his face as he stretched out his arms.

"Now that that is out the way, we should probably start a fire. Lyric, why don't you be a buddy and grab some wood?"

Lyric's glare could pierce through steel. Instead of offering a reply, he stiffly turned, allowing his flashlight to lead the way through the dark trees. Harper hurried to his side, figuring she shouldn't leave him alone out here.

"Hurry back!" Charlotte called, with a certain worried tone to her voice.

Lyric mumbled irritably beneath his breath as he stormed through the brush, collecting as many sticks as he could carry. Harper's arms were already full as she patiently waited for him to finish.

"You know, Oliver is right. You could have some fun while we're here," she whispered, her lips twisting up at the corners.

"Pardon me, but I don't find being isolated in the middle of the woods with no connection to the outside world to be fun." His monotone voice showed he was in no mood for speaking as he added another stick to his pile.

"Well, it's not something that you do everyday," she shrugged.

"True. But we could have gone to the beach. Or somewhere where I am not forced to sleep out in the wilderness," he grumbled.

"College students typically vacation at the beach. Charlotte and Oliver wanted to do something different," Harper replied, although she agreed with Lyric. The beach would have been wonderful. Warm sunlight, refreshing waves. Collecting seashells and swimming. Instead, they were wandering the woods, collecting firewood.

"Charlotte and Oliver could have come here themselves," he spat, turning to face Harper. "That's enough firewood. We should head back," he bluntly nodded.

Agreeing, Harper starting along side him as they let their flashlights guide them back. Once they arrived, however, both dropped the wood in unison. Oliver leaned over Charlotte worriedly as she laid crumpled on the ground.

"What happened?" Harper snapped, jolting to her side. She was barely aware of Lyric as he stood behind her.

"I… I don't know," Oliver stated, panicked. "She just fell to the ground, saying she was sick. I think… I think she threw up over there," he choked out, his face crumpling in disgust.

"My head hurts," she cried, her hands furiously massaging her temples. Her bloodshot eyes popped open, staring intently at Harper. "Do you… do you hear it?" she cried, her lower lip trembling.

Harper looked over to Lyric, who simply shrugged his shoulders. His emotionless face showed he wasn't all that concerned. Returning her gaze to Charlotte, she hesitantly shook her head. "Hear what?" she asked, trying to sound as soothing as possible.

"That ring!" Charlotte cried, looking as though she was about to rip her hair from the roots. "It keeps getting louder and louder!" Tears were streaming down her face like a faucet, refusing to stop.

"Have her go lie in the tent," Lyric curtly mumbled, nodding towards Oliver.

The fear in Oliver's eyes pulled at Harper's heartstrings, but she remained still. "Try to go to sleep," she added, as Oliver helped her up.

Charlotte's eyes were wide and chaotic as she stared around, flickering back and forth across the trees. But she complied, allowing Oliver to pull her into the tent, zipping it closed after she was situated inside.

"What in the hell was that?" Lyric bleakly asked, starting on the fire. Harper had barely noticed.

Oliver appeared as if he had seen a ghost. "I don't know. She freaked on me, in the middle of a conversation. She just started saying, 'that ring, that ring'. I never heard anything."

"Me neither," Harper breathed, pursing her lips.

She heard the flick of a lighter, then the glowing flame as Lyric lit the fire. Sitting down by its side, she shook her head. "That's sad, though," she whispered, staring into the growing flames. "She was so excited to come. Now she has to spend the rest of the night in a tent."

"Better than being out here," Lyric growled, sitting by her side.

Oliver stayed by the tent's edge, the worry not fading from his emerald eyes. His broad shoulders were slumped, making him appear so helpless. Eventually, he forced himself forward until he sat down by the fire as well. Pulling his bag to his side, he reached inside, eventually pulling out a granola bar. Tearing off the paper, he began to eat, leaving the crackling of the fire to be the only noise.

"Well, I see the mood has been ruined," Lyric chuckled, humorlessly. "I must tell you, this trip has been fantastic," he growled.

"You're not helping," Harper hissed, glaring into the trees. The fire barely illuminated the land enough for her to see far.

"Coming here-" Lyric wasn't able to finish his sentence.

Right after he spoke, a hazy ring filled the air. The granola bar fell from Oliver's hands, his eyes popping wide. The three stared at each other, not daring to speak a word. It was faint. But it was there.

"Do you hear it?" Oliver breathed, sweat now coating the back of his neck.

Lyric and Harper both hesitantly nodded, unable to break eye contact. Unable to move. "It's… it's an animal," Lyric concluded, nodding his head surely. The fear that now lurked in his dark eyes showed he was not as confident as he seemed.

"What kind of animal makes that sound?" Oliver growled, baring his teeth.

Lyric's eyebrows furrowed as he fought to think of a reply. But before he could, the shrill scream of Charlotte filled the air. Oliver shot to his feet, but before he could make it to the tent, Charlotte was nearly breaking it down. The zipper ripped open before she toppled out, convulsing on the ground like a fish out of water. A wail tumbled from her lips as she gripped her head, her hands covering her ears. It didn't hide the trail of blood that seeped through her fingers and trickled down her neck.

Oliver shot to her side, having to pry her hands away. Her sobbing increased as her ears were bared, showing the blood that was gushing out.

"Make it stop!" she shrieked, viciously shaking her head.

Lyric was as hard as stone as he stared at the sight before him, Harper matching. They all now heard the ring. But it wasn't uncomfortable. Was she even hearing the same thing? Oliver hovered above her, soothingly trying to get her to settle down. He grabbed her wrists, trying to force her to stop moving, only for her to cough, blood splattering onto his white shirt. The breath hitched in Lyric's throat, Oliver's eyes growing three sizes larger. Charlotte began to choke, her cheeks growing darker in color.

"She's choking!"

"Lift her up, you fool!" Lyric growled, pushing himself to his feet.

Oliver shakily lifted her, although it didn't seem to help. Within seconds, she drooped in his arms.

"CPR, now!" Harper cried, flinging herself forward. Lyric caught her, holding her back as Oliver began to blow air into her lungs, pumping her heart for her. Tears were now rolling down his cheeks, his hands shaking as he forced her heart to beat.

Harper would have fell to her knees if it hadn't been for Lyric holding her up. She noticed his head snap out into the trees, his face as pale as a ghost.

"She's not breathing!" Oliver cried, furiously working over Charlotte's body. But he knew as well as everyone else that there was nothing else they could do. They were out in the middle of the woods, no one to call to for help. Even if they got her breathing again…

The ring fell silent. Harper twisted in Lyric's arms, holding on to him as she snapped her eyes shut. There was something out there. Something that had just killed Charlotte. Even though Oliver was trying to revive her, his choked cries showed that even he knew it was futile. Lyric's stiff form offered little comfort as tears leaked from her eyes. Something was out there.

With a cry of surrender, Oliver shot to his feet, blood covering most of his form. He was shaking like a leaf, the fire illuminating off of him in a brutal manner.

"Hey!" he yelled, stomping out into the trees. "You son of a bitch! What do you want?" he snarled, fury radiating off of him.

"Shut up!" Lyric growled. "You see what it wants! If you keep antagonizing it, you will be next," he hissed.

"Oh, so you admit now that this forest is fucked up," Oliver snorted, glaring at him. That usual twinkle in his eyes was now missing.

Harper pulled away from Lyric, squeezing her eyes shut. This had to be a dream. This couldn't be real. This vacation wasn't supposed to result in her friend dying.

"I'd be ignorant to say it's not. What else could have done that to her?" Lyric's chillingly calm voice did little to hide his twisting emotions.

"We need to get out of here," Harper breathed, the tears continuing to spill from her eyes. It would be wrong to leave Charlotte. But if they remained by the fire's side, they would be nothing more than sitting ducks.

"No! I'm not leaving her," Oliver furiously shook his head.

"She's right," Lyric hissed in reply, walking to Harper's side. "Look at her. She is dead. Before the night's end she died in these woods. Yet you think we should stay here? Something managed to kill her before even coming into _view._ You would be a fool to stay and see what happens once it does," Lyric scoffed.

"Oliver, listen to him," Harper coaxed, her eyes pleading as she tried to keep his gaze. He dropped it without a second thought.

"You two do what you want," he snarled, baring his teeth. "Shows how good of friends you are," he snorted, sitting down by Charlotte's dead form.

Harper's heart stuttered painfully as her tears quickened. Lyric took hold of her arm, beginning to drag her away. "It isn't about friendship. It's about survival. You think she would want you to stay here? Do as you wish, but I would like to see tomorrow," Lyric bluntly stated, heading out into the dark woods while towing Harper by his side.

"Lyric, I don't think-"

"Let his ignorance get him killed," Lyric shrugged.

Silence reigned over them as they continued through the woods, the atmosphere growing thicker as they went along. Not even the moon offered them light, only the smooth rays from their flashlights.

"I'm sorry we made you come, Lyric," Harper finally choked, wrapping her arms around herself as they walked. The guilt that swam within her refused to falter. Leaving Charlotte, abandoning Oliver. Dragging Lyric along, when he could safely be at home right now, like he wanted.

"It wasn't your doing," he brushed off, shaking his head.

Harper paused, jerking her arm in front of him. "Do you see that?"

Following her line of sight, Lyric could make out the tall form of a man, partially hidden behind a tree in the distance. Shutting his eyes, he reopened them to see it now gone. His throat went dry as he stared at Harper's horror struck face.

"Something really is out here," Harper cried, the light from her flashlight shaking due to her trembling form.

"Keep going," Lyric snapped, shaking his head as he drug her forward.

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Oliver angrily glared into the roaring flames, running his fingers through Charlotte's pale hair. Part of him refused to believe she was gone. How much she meant to him refused to let him believe… Reaching down, he brought his cell phone to his ear, trying for the fifteenth time to call for help. But with the lack of signal in the depths of the trees, it was his teeth, he slung his phone down to the dirt.

Hearing a snapping twig in the distance caused his head to rise, his eyes narrowing. Whatever it was, it was playing games with them. He did regret not going with Harper and Lyric. The logical part of him knew that they were right. But it seemed as though weights were tied at his ankles, refusing him to leave this very spot. Pushing himself to his feet, he gently lowered Charlotte to the ground, refusing his eyes from falling on her. He felt dead inside, lost within the trees. It was like a vicious nightmare that he couldn't wake from. He wished he would find himself jerking awake in bed, sweat trailing down his skin. Still on the plane to Romania. Although he knew good and well that it was a useless wish.

His ears pricked as the ring buzzed through the air once more, causing the hairs to rise on his arms. It was now higher pitched, aggravating as he listened to it. His fists clenched as his hate-filled eyes searched through the trees, coming up with nothing. Nothing but mocking limbs and shadows. "What do you want?" he bellowed, his chest rising and falling as his heart picked up speed.

He was being circled like an animal, that ring continuing to raise higher and higher. It was now like nails on a chalk board, a pitiful yell barely held back in his throat. He spun on his heel, trying to find the cause of such a noise through the trees.

The flames flickered, the fire close to going out. A curling sickness gathered in Oliver's stomach as he tried to hold himself together. His vision grew blurry as the fire cut out, no reason for it. Darkness surrounded him, only the aching sound of the ring behind heard. He froze, holding his hands to his ears, begging for it all to be over.

That was when he heard the distinct sound of twigs snapping behind him. His heart stopped within his chest as the ring died away, horrific silence being left behind. Slowly, he turned.

He was faced with a tall, menacing being that peered down at him. Its featureless face mockingly returned his glare, as a smile ripped its way into place.

He shut his eyes, accepting death as it smiled.

* * *

Lyric and Harper continued to tread through the woods, hoping that at any moment, they would break from the trees. The heavy atmosphere continued to grow, choking in a way. Harper frowned at her aching feet, losing track of the amount of time they had been walking. It seemed like a century.

"I would offer a break, but now isn't the time for that," Lyric sighed, appearing just as drained as she did.

"Are we going in circles or something?" she bleakly murmured, forcing herself to continue.

"I couldn't tell you if we were."

An agonized shriek echoed through the trees a good distance away. Lyric and Harper froze, refusing to even blink. The sobs continued to grow, until they cut off completely. Harper felt her knees tremble, threatening to go out beneath her.

"Oliver…" she breathed, barely getting the single word out of her tight throat.

Lyric's face was expressionless, as he tried to remain calm. "He should have come with us," he deadpanned, shaking his head as he started forward once more.

"How can you say that right now?" Harper cried, bounding forward to catch up with him. Lyric glared at her with warning eyes, showing he was in no mood for this. "Two of our friends are dead because of some monster out there!"

"We can't do anything about it!" he hissed in return. "We can't go back. There would be nothing either of could do if we did. If we starting mourning right now, it would give that creature the perfect opportunity to catch up with us. Keep your head clear, and you can cry all you want once we are out of this hellhole!" he growled, quickening his pace.

Offering no reply, she hurried by Lyric's side, praying they would make it out of here soon. To survive this nightmare that refused to end. On and on they walked, until that dreaded ring met with them, an omen of what was to come.

Lyric stiffened, his eyes flashing about. The land around them was silent besides the ring, no animal life even offering comfort. At the sound of a snapping twig, adrenaline swam in his veins.

"Run," he hissed, speeding forward with more speed he ever thought he had.

Harper was right on his heels, speeding forward faster than her legs had ever gone. Both of them were now in panic mode, seeing that no matter how fast they went, how far they got, that monster would always catch up to them. Her lungs burned as she pushed herself forward, refusing to stop. That was until Lyric slid to a stop, leaves and loose rocks flying from the ground. Nearly slamming into his back, Harper barely made out the tall form of a creature, before it trickled out of sight, disappearing into thin air.

If Lyric hadn't believed in the paranormal before, he most certainly did now. Harper gripped his arm like a vice, her trembling legs not moving. It was pointless. Positively pointless. The creature was taunting them. Playing with them as he lingered. There was no making it out of this wicked land of terror.

A rush of black and white sped forward, knocking Lyric to the ground, ripping Harper's arms away. Lyric scrambled, twisting around to see nothing. Nothing was there. Leaves were stuck in Lyric's dark hair, which shook as he did. His dark eyes locked with Harper's, an accepting gleam to them.

"Go, Harper," he breathed, starting to his feet.

That was all it took for Harper to speed forward, trampling through the woods as if it were on fire. Guilt seethed within her veins, regretfully slowing her pace. She couldn't leave him. Allow that monster to use him, while she made it out of here. It was wrong. It was just wrong. Just as she was prepared to turn back, a sickening crack filled the air. Soon followed by a powerful slam, as if one of the trees had fallen. Hesitantly walking back, her flashlight shook as she peered around.

Her hand slammed over her mouth to prevent the scream that ached to burst through her lips. There, a tree snapped in half. It's jagged edge pointed straight for the sky, Lyric's dying body impaled on the very tip. The jagged bark was stained red, Lyric's blood trickling down and staining his torso. His limbs hung lifelessly by his side as the light drained from his dark eyes.

A pitiful whimper spilled through her lips as she turned, sprinting into the dark. Her flashlight flung to the ground, leaving her with nothing but darkness. Her hands shot out, whipping at the limps that slammed into her face and sides. Her heart was thumping erratically in her chest, her thoughts jumbled due to the panic. It wasn't long, however, before she tumbled forward, breaking through the last of the trees.

A cry of relief broke through her lips as her shaking hands now gripped smooth grass, relief blooming within her. That was only until she gazed up, seeing she was not free. In fact, she was a lot worse off than she imagined. She was in the middle of the forest. The circular land where nothing would grow. She was in the heart of the nightmare, out in the open and vulnerable.

Her thoughts began to grow dizzy, her vision blurred. Her thoughts only focused on what Charlotte had said about this land. The rumor of different dimensions. The dizziness, the sickness. It was all true. Falling forward, she curled into a small ball. She was accepting death, zero fight left within her. After all, there was nothing else she could do. She didn't even notice that the ring died away.

The sickness began to fade. Trickling away as if it had never occurred. Holding herself together, she didn't know whether or not she could open her eyes. If she did, that creature would more than likely be face to face with her. Taking the chance, her eyes snapped open.

All of the air left her lungs. She had been expecting a monster. Death, a circle of empty land. But that was the last thing she was faced with.

A towering, magnificent mansion now stood with all its glory. Its elegance showed with pride, artfully constructed with a dark beauty. Columns lined the entry way, stone steps leading to a massive front door. Furiously blinking, she wondered if she had died. If this was purely an act of her imagination—had she lost her mind? Shakily pushing herself to her feet, her eyes refused to tear away from the glorious building. Only until its front doors swung open, two figures nonchalantly exiting.

Panicking, she twisted around, only to be faced with the man from her nightmares.

He was incredibly tall. Towering above her, the dark being emptily gazed down at her. He had no features—faceless. She could make out the small indents of his cheekbones, and the dips where his eyes _should_ be. A delicate suit adorned his body, his white dress shirt stained with blood. What looked to be tentacles swayed behind his back, his expression narrowing into one of anger.

"Slender, are you done-"

The gruff voice froze from behind her, as tears welled her eyes. The creature scoffed— _scoffed_ at the other voice, before shaking its head. A wicked smile tore into place on his face.

"Not quite. Just one more," his demonic voice growled.

His grotesque smile grew, as Harper's eyes snapped closed.

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Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It seemed silly to try to think of a way out when you're so far deep into a mess. It was irrevocable, pointless and above all, foolish. Why waste the last bit of time you have plotting when you should be thinking of all of the good things that occurred in life. At least then, you would die happy. Not face to face with a featureless demon who was smugly grinning, its ripped mouth dripping with wickedness. Harper could only stare, her legs feeling like jelly beneath her as they quivered. One more. He was speaking about her, she was sure of it. His black tongue outlined the jagged lips, appearing eager. Her stomach curled as it uncomfortably twisted.

She didn't even bother to pay mind to the two new faces. Then again, she wouldn't be able to say faces, considering they were masked. Covered up, only one even willing to show his eyes. At the moment, the lovely blue was looking away, not thrilled to see his master devour yet another ignorant teenager who had wandered into the woods. They all knew the stories. They all thought they were above them. And that was why they all died, one after the other.

"Is there... is there not a thing I could do?" Harper begged, her voice shaking like a leaf, nearly to the point where it was unintelligible. But she could tell, the monster understood her. Why else would his grin grow wider, his body shaking as if he were... laughing.

She then heard the deep rumble as the beast laughed, his head throwing back with the force of it. "Anything you could do?" the demonic rumble chuckled, as he leaned down, his face inches from hers. Roughly swallowing, she leaned back as far as she dared. "What could you possibly do that would interest me, besides being my meal?" the monster snickered, his forked tongue mimicking a snake's. Not to mention the tendrils behind his back swaying-what was he?

Staring back at the mansion, she raked through her mind, trying to pry any idea out of the chaotic mess that tried to contain itself. What could she do for the beast? It had just snapped her friends like twigs; what could spare her life?

"I could work for you-I don't know," she cried, snapping her eyes shut. It wouldn't be long before one of those tendrils that appeared like tentacles twisted forward, wrapping around her neck. She would rather not see it coming.

"He already has people working for him, girlie," the once pleasant voice morphing into an irritated snap. She knew it was the blue-eyed white-masked boy without even looking.

"What work do you speak of?" the demonic grumble questioned, his amusement growing. After all, she didn't imagine it was something he was used to. Only the screams or curses from his victims. Yet one was asking to work for him?

"Boss!" the white-masked man hissed, his anger continuing to grow. Why, she didn't know.

"Hush, Masky," the demon snarled. "This is entertaining. Not even _you_ requested as much. Now I will ask again. What work do you speak of?" he asked, as Harper's knees shook. She more than likely appeared as if she were about to collapse, shutting down from the sheer terror she was currently facing.

"Y-you live in that mansion," she choked out, hesitantly opening her eyes. "Do you have anyone to cook meals for all who live there? Anyone to clean it?" she tried, it being the only thing she could imagine to be useful for. Laughter bellowed from the creatures, even a raspy chuckle from the one who hadn't yet spoke. His red smile taunted her as her heart sped in her chest.

"You are offering to be a maid?" the demon clarified, still snickering in a grotesque way. "Of all the things I have heard in my many years, this is by far the most amusing," he chortled.

Cringing, Harper's head lowered. So that must be it, then. The demon simply wanted to taunt her, let her words amuse him before he consumed her whole. Tears welled in her eyes, dripping as fast as they appeared.

"Although, it would save me from meaningless work," the creature hummed, the two masked men's laughter ceasing just as quick as it had come.

"Boss, you... you can't possibly be considering this!" the blue-eyed boy... Masky scoffed.

The wicked man turned to him, cocking his head. "I will consider what I wish; you do not question me. The idea amuses me. A simple human working for a pit of serial killers. How absurd. You wouldn't last a day, child," he mused, although Harper noticed the dark aura that surrounded him was fading. A single spark of hope filled her, her heart roughly thumping from the thought.

"I... I could still try," she nodded, holding her head high with confidence.

The wicked being smiled, it jagged and filled with hate. "How interesting it would be to see. Considering I am satiated from your young _friends_ , and curious to see how long you last-I accept your offer, Miss." The white-masked man let out a strangled growl, angry for some unknown reason. The demonic being ignored him completely. "However, do not expect me to aid you when another inhabitant of the mansion reacts differently," he sneered, "and I assure you they will. The blood thirsty creatures that lurk inside are filled with more hate than even I. Best of luck, Miss. And Welcome to Slender Mansion," he smirked, as ice filled her veins.

Looking back at the magnificent building, Harper wondered whether she had made the correct decision. It was ludicrous; she had never dreamed it would work. That snap decision that fell from her lips had been the only thing her mind could conjure at that dire moment. Yet it had worked, of all things. Only because the creature possessed a malicious intent for entertainment, just to watch her struggles. She knew, that even though that vile creature had killed three people whom she had been close to, she now owed him her life. She was the only one to survive. The only way for her to continue that streak of luck was to win their affections. How to do that, she didn't know.

"I'm Harper," she breathed, figuring that it was the best way for her to start.

The demonic creature seemed to change before her. Still, he was the most intimidating creature she has ever laid eyes on. But his inhuman height seemed to dwindle, shrinking, although he still remained incredibly tall. That grotesque smile faded on his featureless face, leaving it a pale slate with simple indents where his eyes _should_ be. The harsh points of his bones showed where his cheekbones laid, along with his brows that seemed to be furrowed in confusion. Lastly, those tendrils melted away, disappearing.

"Slenderman," he responded, using the name most used for him. Truthfully, he had no name. But it was enough. "Those two are Masky and Hoodie," his voice continued, from no clear source. It had shifted from the demonic growl, to a velvet rasp. "As our new _maid_ ," he scoffed, seeming unable to help it, "let us have you start out with preparing breakfast for the mansion in the morning. I shall leave you a list of what to prepare. Not everything on that will be as simple as you hope," he chuckled, darkly. "Masky, show her to a spare guest room. I have work to do," he finished, before disappearing from sight.

He teleported? Harper's insides quivered as she faced the blue-eyed man. They were fierce as they stared at her, an odd mix of emotions fluttering within the azure. Even still, he silently turned, starting forward into the mansion. Forcing her feet forward, she followed him with haste, not wanting to get lost within the large mansion's walls. Who knows what she would find.

Once entering, she was truly amazed at the sight. The entry way was wide, marble floors covered only by a royal red rug that trickled up a massive staircase. Weeping statues stood in the corners, along with elegant paintings that lined the walls; their golden frames seeming to tarnish from years of neglect. Her quiet footsteps echoed along the walls, along with Masky's. The haunting atmosphere only ruined the magnificent surroundings, the darkened colors doing little to help. Blacks and greys. Darker reds and blues. Not a bright color was in sight, besides the yellow coat that clung to Masky's form. She was curious about so many things, only fearful of speaking a word to the tense man who guided her.

"Where is the kitchen?" she finally breathed, as they twisted to a new hall. No inhabitants had presented themselves yet, which she was thankful for. "I'll need to know... for in the morning."

The masked man scowled, it showing blatantly in his eyes. "First room to the right of the staircase. Hopefully you have been paying attention," he snapped in reply, not offering another word.

She wanted to ask what had him so angry. But knowing it was better to remain quiet, she did. Finally, he stopped outside of one of the many doors that lined the hall. Simple, brown wood that matched all the rest. She would have to mark it some how, to remind her where it was once she left. Nodding in thanks, she slipped inside. Reaching a blind hand along the walls, she finally found a light switch. As light flooded into the room, she shut the door.

It was a simple bedroom, the color scheme a basic beige and white. A nice turn from the usual gloom. Just a bed, a dresser and a side table. Two doors, one for a bathroom and the other for a closet, she supposed. There wasn't even a window to offer her peace to look out amongst the odd, twisting trees. Now, truly alone, it seemed like the entire day had come crashing down on her, her tears quickly returning. She had survived. Against the impossible odds, she had survived probably the most dangerous location on this planet.

Pain gripped her heart as her friend's faces melted through her thoughts, one by one. Charlotte as she gripped her bleeding ears, crying out to the unknown tormentor. Oliver, broken and purposeless, refusing to leave Charlotte's cold, dead body. Then Lyric, impaled by a jagged tree. His dark eyes lost all of their witty, yet bleak luster. A soft sob broke through her lips as she fell upon the bed, curling into a small ball. Of all of her friends, why had she been the one to live? To get this chance? Why not Charlotte, who was actually interested in the dark paranormal? Or Oliver, who seemed to be up for nearly anything in the world? Or even Lyric; his brilliant mind could have gotten him through this easily.

Yet it was her. Harper Monrey, of all people in the world. In all reality, she had probably just prolonged death. The demonic Slenderman had said it himself; he wasn't going to save her once she met the bloodthirsty eyes of another inhabitant of the mansion. She would die by morning, if one of the soulless beings realized she was here. Her sobs grew in volume as she hid her face in one of the soft pillows, the face of the dead not leaving her mind. Her family, who she would never see again. Her life that was viciously stolen from her.

As her bloodshot eyes faded as sleep called, she wanted to deny it. She knew the dark nightmares that would plague her mind right as she fell asleep. But it was inevitable. Sleep consumed her, swiping her away as a vicious cackle echoed.

It was as if she was awake. Awake, yet trapped in the bolted safe of her mind. Black swirled her vision, coating it until it lofted away, fading until she could see her hands by her sides. A new landscape surrounded her, it even more unnerving than the forest had ever been. In fact, she would skip through it merrily if she could choose. The deserted amusement park had the hairs on her arms sticking up straight, goosebumps trailing her skin. Crossing her arms, she hugged on to herself as if her life depended on it.

Broken down rides stood in the distance, some even still chaotically moving. Holey tarps and flags stood straight, no wind offering them movement. The smell of smoke lined the area, the small tinges of fire coating stalls as their toys melted away, still smiling as they did. It was empty, not a soul in sight. Looking up at the dark sky, not even stars could be seen. This place was wrong, the atmosphere deathly. It seemed to eat you away, making it hard to even breathe. Harper's panicked gold eyes shot around, the land seeming to scream for her to move.

Her feet started forward as she tried to remain calm. It was a dream. Just a dream. She chanted the silent mantra repetitively, finally seeing a large striped tent in the distance. Black and white, it matched the bleak monochrome complexion of this land. Yet once she approached the dark entry, she immediately wanted to turn back. Although she could not see what was inside, she knew that it was not a force to be reckoned with. Peering behind her, her heart stuttered at the sight of the land melting away. It was either the tent, or the empty blackness that threatened to take her. The land close paled, slowly being eaten away.

Trying to breathe evenly, she entered the bleak tent.

With a loud pop, a single spotlight shone, positioned right in the center of the tent. Harper jumped, her eyes flickering around. Seats surrounded the tent, hundreds of eyes focused intently on her. Her heart jumped to her throat as her eyes focused to the light, sweeping over each of them. They were children, that was clear enough. But their zombified appearance showed that this place had a hellish intent that was just waiting for her. The children's dead eyes glared at her, some missing, others hanging by a small strand, laying against the child's cheek. Their skin was a pale grey, blood missing from their veins. Some of their limbs were missing, prickling bone jutting out by the rotting skin. Wounds that couldn't heal coated them, going from a simple scratch to missing noses and jaws.

A small squeak fell from Harper's lips as she began to back away, terrified for the many dead bodies that circled her, staring. That was when a wicked cackle broke through the air, a tall, lanky figure stepping into the center of the spotlight. He appeared like a clown. A strange, monochrome clown with crazed, dark eyes. His dark lips were pulled into a wide smile, sharpened teeth sparkling with the desire to rip out her jugular. His shaggy black hair covered most of his face, falling to the black and white feathers that coated his shoulders, then to his striped sleeves and wrapped torso.

"So I _did_ see a human in the mansion!" the being chuckled, his smile growing ten sizes. "Oh, what fun!" he growled, his laugh turning to a grizzling rasp that gnawed on her bones.

"W-who are you?" she stuttered, shaking where she stood.

Before she could blink, the clown had disappeared, leaving an explosion of black mist behind. A claw carefully traced across her neck, making Harper jump within her skin. Flipping around, she couldn't help the squeal that spilled from her lips as she saw the clown now standing behind her, his smile radiant as he psychotically laughed.

"I should be asking _you_ that, sugar," he growled, his black eyes seeming to peer right through her.

Harper knew that like the Slenderman, this creature was not something she should challenge. If anything, she should be groveling at its feet. "I'm Harper," she whispered, roughly trying to swallow the lump that grew in her throat. "I'm-"

She was interrupted by the clown's cackles, his claws holding his belly as he rocked back on his heels. "Harper, is it?" he giggled, wiping away a fake tear. The overly dramatic clown flitted to her side, roughly grabbing her wrist in one of his claws. "Let me introduce myself," he snarled in her ear.

With a single snap, a wall was now behind her, her back slamming against it. The clown's wicked grin was inches from her face, a gleam of insanity leaking from his pure black eyes, and trickling down to the black smears on his cheeks. "I'm Laughing Jack, sweets. I don't know how you managed to get into the mansion alive, but I do know we are going to have some fun," he cackled, one of his claws gripping roughly around her throat.

Pinning her to the wall, he lifted her up, Harper's hands prying at his claw. With his free hand, the clown grinned broadly as he ripped one of her hands away, slamming it to the wall by her head. Gasping for air, she fought with all her might, the zombie children watching with sickening glee as the clown pulled a large nail from his seemingly endless pockets. Pressing it to the back of her hand, she managed to scream as he began to drill it straight through, blood pouring down the her wrist. Tears rained down her cheeks, as she continued to try and convince herself that this was a dream.

But what dream contained pain that felt so real? Her hand was screaming in agony, the nail impaling it before shoving roughly into the wall. The clown continued to laugh, seeming to adore the pain she was experiencing. Harper knew then, that the Slenderman was right. She wouldn't even last the night. Even her dreams were not safe in this hell.

"S-stop!" she screeched as the clown's claws tightened around her throat, threatening to puncture it due to their sharpness.

"Why should I do that, tootsie? Look at the fun we are having," he cackled, his striped cone nose nearly poking out her eye.

"I-I'm supposed to be here," she managed to choke out, causing the clown to pause, his laughter fading away. One of his dark eyebrows rose as he stared at her, that wicked smile fading away.

"What do you mean you're supposed to be here?" he growled, his rasping voice causing chills to run down her spine.

"I'm the mansion's new maid," she wheezed, still trying to pry the clown's hand away with her free hand. The other was losing feeling, the blood becoming sticky on her skin.

A new round of laughter exploded from the clown, his grip only tightening. "That's a good joke, sugar! I like jokes. I like death even more," he growled, all humor trickling away.

"N-no, I am!" she cried. "Ask Slenderman, o-or Masky," she sobbed, her lungs begging for air that the clown refused to give.

At the mere mention of the Slenderman's name, the clown's hand dropped away. A ragged scream tore through her throat, her nailed hand now being the one thing holding her up. Harper's feet dangled, inches from the ground below her.

"You say?" he murmured, running the tip of a claw over his chin. "A maid? How funny!" he giggled, shaking his head. "We've never had one of those. So are ya going to clean the mansion and cook our food and what not?" he chimed, seeming to not even pay mind to her pained expression.

The clown's emotions flipped as fast as lightning, leaving Harper dizzy as her brain tried to keep up. "Y-yes," he breathed, grimacing due to the pain of her hand.

"Oh, this should be grand! Well, sugar, you should have said so before I started nailing you to the wall," he cackled, his crazed eyes staring intently into hers.

Her scowl was full of fire, yet she refused to snap back at him. "I tried to," she calmly stated, the hole in her hand only growing larger.

"You'd better get to sleep then. I expect a fine candy breakfast in the morning," he giggled, completely ignoring her. "Oh, and don't get on my bad side, candy cane. I can do a lot worse than nail your little hand to the wall."

With one last laugh, the world trickled away into choking, black smoke.

A strangled gasp exploded through Harper's lips as she shot up from the bed. Sweat coated her skin, her hair slicked back. That dream... it was a dream. But how could she dream up a character like that psychotic clown? Curling into a small ball, she flinched right as her hand hit her knee. Looking down, she nearly screamed. A large hole was now in her hand, blood still trickling from the wound. Her pale arm was streaked with red, the blood now dry. A sickening feeling filled her as she realized that the dream had been nothing more than real. She couldn't stop the tears as she rushed to the bathroom, hunting for anything to wrap her hand with. There was nothing she could do about the white sheets that were now saturated with her blood.

Finally finding a small medical kit in one of the cabinets, she began to wrap her hand, knowing good and well it needed more attention. There was little she could do now, though. Peering into the mirror, she looked as though she had been run over by a train. Her strawberry-blonde hair was a frizzled mess, loose leaves and twigs still sticking into the curls. Dark bags seeped beneath her golden eyes, the brightness long gone. Crimson scabs stuck out against her lips, showing how hard she must have bitten them. Looking closer, she saw the purplish bloom of bruises that were starting to form around her neck. Laughing Jack.

Trying to stop the tears before they started, she backed away from the mirror. If she wanted any chance of living, she had to get to work. Breakfast had to be made from the psychotic killers that lived there; how many there were, she didn't know. She didn't want to, either. Hesitating at the door to her room, she squeaked it open. Peaking her head out the crack, she saw the hall was currently empty. Letting out a sigh of relief, she started on her way out, trying her hardest to remember the route to the kitchen. She remembered Masky saying it was the door to the right of the staircase. But the way back to the staircase?

Wandering, she paused before every hall, terrified someone would approach. As she continued along, she froze at the sound of voices echoing. Her eyes flickered around searching for somewhere-anywhere to hide. Seeing one of the statues standing against the wall, she figured that it would have to do. Bolting to its side, she hunched down, trying to cover as much of herself as possible.

The voices grew closer, her breath hot against the smooth stone. Shutting her eyes, she prayed that they wouldn't notice her. That would be the last thing she needed. Peeking her eyes open, she watched as two figures passed, nonchalantly talking to each other. One was tall, wearing a white dress shirt, a black tie hanging loosely. His hair was a shaggy black, falling into his face and scraping against his neck. He looked rather normal, if it hadn't been for the white medical mask that covered his mouth, and his piercing red eyes. Next to him was a man who made her blood run cold. A black hoodie covered him, gloves hiding his hands away. Chestnut hair fell over the navy mask, its intimidating look not doing any justice to the black pits that were his eyes... or lack of them. A strange black goo trickled down the mask, seeming to stain it.

Her heart rapidly thumped as she waited for them to walk out of sight before she made a break for the kitchen. Scrambling down the halls, she nearly collapsed with joy once she reached the staircase. Doing as Masky said, she entered the door to the right of it. It was a large, rather decorative kitchen. It seemed as if there was a door leading to a freezer, and yet another to a pantry. They must need quite a lot of space for all of the food that was needed. Walking to the small table in the center, she saw the note that the Slenderman had left.

Her throat went dry. How many people _lived_ here? As her eyes raked over the note, she realized there had to be over twenty. Twenty monsters in one house, and she, a meager human, was wandering amongst them. Trying to remain calm, she started on the list. It was going to take forever to get all of the food ready. Pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon. Not to mention the rather odd items on the list. That mainly being keyed to the _organs._ A note was scribbled beside it, listing the options and where they would be.

Slumping back against the refrigerator, Harper covered her face with her hand. She wasn't going to be able to do this. Every day she would have to, and she knew good and well the list would grow for all she had to do. Pushing herself, she began to make the food, gathering the correct amount of plates and utensils as well. Seeing a door to the side, she peeked through the small crack, seeing a large dining room. That must be where she would set the food.

Like a hurricane she prepared the food, leaving the organs for last. Speeding from the kitchen to the dining room, she prepared it all, feeling like a mother in a way. A mother with _a lot_ of children, that is. The organs hadn't been as bad as she thought. She found where they were stowed, all bagged and ready. Holding the bag above a plate, she let it slide down and settle, trying her best to ignore the blood that pooled beneath it.

Next to exhausted, she finished with a happy sigh. Hopefully this would appease Slenderman enough to convince the others not to kill her. Her aching hand begged for it, blood starting to leak through the bandage. Shutting her eyes, she wondered what she should do now? Wait for all of them to arrive? Her stomach curled at the thought of meeting them all at once. Four was enough in twenty-four hours. More than enough. But as if the world was playing a menacing trick, the kitchen door opened.

A figure entered, oblivious to her. Walking to the refrigerator door, they slung it open, pulling a water bottle out. But when their lidless eyes met hers, the bottle nearly slipped from their hand.

A horrific smile stretched across their face-even though it had already been smiling to start with.

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	3. Chapter 3

Harper thought that the faceless man and monochrome were two terrifying creatures. And in truth, they were. But when it came to the smiling man she was now facing, she'd rather face them any day. Her mind screeched for her to run, scream, hide, _anything._ But it felt as if her feet were cemented to the kitchen floor, her bones locked into place by chains. She could think of nothing but that carved smile and unblinking eyes that stared straight at her.

Her breath hitched as the corners of his lips tugged up, causing that cut smile to widen even more on his cheeks. His gaze held her in place, small pinpricks that possessed no color surrounding them. Black circled each eye, seeming like it was all that was left of his eyelids. The man wouldn't blink. She didn't think he could, which caused her stomach to curl.

"You lost, princess?" his gravelly voice questioned, his hand slowly lowering the water bottle to the counter. He took a step forward, she took one back.

"N-no," she managed to breathe, her voice shaking like a leaf. Her blank mind fought for words, yet his unnerving eyes refused to let a single thought enter her head.

His head cocked to the side, his disheveled black hair falling into his face. A raspy chuckle fell through his lips as his smile widened. It was almost sickening how she could see straight into his mouth, those sliced cheeks still bloody around the scarred edges. Did he repeatedly carve that smile, never letting it heal?

"Now what would a little girl like yourself," he began, taking another step forward, "be doing in a mansion full of serial killers?"

He was a predator, taking his time as he stalked forward. Her heart mimicked a humming bird's wings as she tried to keep a fair distance away from him. Her eyes flickered over his blood-stained hoodie, noticing his hand that laid in the pocket. He was gripping something, what appearing to be the tip of a blade poking out the edge of the pocket. Her mouth went dry.

"I'm... I'm working here now," she managed to spit through her trembling lips, her jaw clenched.

She jumped as a wicked cackle sounded from the man, his form hunching over as he laughed. It looked as though those never-closing eyes were close to bulging from their sockets. That laugh sent shivers down her spine; it being nearly as chaotic as Laughing Jack's. She could see the craze that just leaked from him, knowing there was no chance at reasoning with him like the others. The others had been miracles.

"Working here?" he scoffed, taking another step forward. She was now backed into the corner, her knees beginning to shake. He was only a foot away. "I don't recall there being job applications," he purred, amusement shining in his bloodshot eyes.

Harper opened her mouth to explain, fear swallowing her. But before a word exited her mouth, his hand shot forward, roughly gripping her throat. His charred fingers were far from gentle, all air being cut off immediately as she struggled. Forcing her back, her head slammed into the wall, pain bursting straight down her spine.

"Frankly, I don't give a fuck what your reason for being here is," he bluntly snorted, sneering in her face. "You're nothing but another useless person I need to kill," he snickered, his eyes sparkling with glee.

Tears welled in her eyes as she fought within his grip, trying her hardest to break away. His fist only tightened, along with his high-pitched giggles.

"Aww, don't look so sad, sweetheart," he cooed, his free hand's fingers lining her lips. "I can easily make you smile."

Panicking, she did the only thing she could think to do. Snapping her mouth open, her teeth snapped together, locking one of his fingers in between. Blood swelled into her mouth as she bit down, the killer's face twisting into one of pure rage. It was enough for his spare hand to loosen around her throat, allowing her to duck out from underneath his arm.

She ran. Bolting towards the door, she didn't care where she ended up. Who she encountered, what her fate would bring. As long as she managed to get away from the psychotic smiling man who so very nearly carved a smile onto her own face. Ripping the door open, she heard him snarl behind her, his heavy footsteps trailing her.

Speeding out into the hall, she fled for the corner, immediately turning left—only to crash into a surprised man, nearly falling backwards. His hands stopped her descent, gripping her shoulders so she could regain her balance. Her stomach dropped as she realized that yet another inhabitant of this mansion was now aware that she was here.

Harper's terrified gaze swept up, meeting the deepest emerald eyes she has ever seen. The man was smiling, one of his brows raised as he looked her over. Her heart dropped at the sight of the scars that decorated his face, sloppily stitched back together. One slashed over his cheekbone, folding over his nose. Two drug up the corners of his lips... making a smile. Another man with a scarred smile? Her stomach churned as she tried to catch her breath.

"Where's the fire?" he chuckled, before pursing his lips. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. Who might you be?" the man asked, releasing her shoulders.

The world began to spin as she fought for a reply. She couldn't forget the smiling bastard that was chasing after her. Then again, she couldn't run from this man, too. He at least seemed friendly so far, and the last thing she needed was to piss off two killers at once.

"I'm Harper," she quickly replied, taking a short peek over her shoulder. The smiling man was no where in sight. Turning back, she watched as the man ran a hand through his tousled brown hair, the look of confusion not leaving his face. "I'm the mansion's new maid," she explained, watching as his jaw dropped.

"Well, Slender could have informed us of the new little maid wandering around," he snorted, although his smile returned. "I'm Liu. Someone after you or something?" His emerald eyes shot behind her before he tensed.

All air left Harper's lungs as her arm was jerked back in a vice-like grip, her back shoved into the wall. The force was so great, the near by vase shook due to the impact. Furious pinpricks met her gaze, all color draining from her face.

"You little bitch," the smiling killer hissed, baring his teeth. "Forget the smile. You're not going to get a short painless death, princess, forget that. We're going to have some fun before you go to sleep," he spat, venom lacing each and every word.

"Leave the girl be, Jeff. She's the new maid," Liu stated, his lips now a thin line.

The smiling killer... Jeff stiffened, one of his lidless eyes twitching as they flickered over to Liu. Looking over, Harper didn't know whether to feel grateful... or even more terrified. The friendly Liu she had just met was no where in sight. In fact, he now appeared even more intimidating than Jeff, his personality flipping on the dime. His eyes were cold, emotionless. Even his voice lacked any emotion she could pinpoint as he glared at Jeff.

"Maid?" Jeff spat, his grip on her arm tightening even more. "The mansion's never had a damn maid. We don't need a fucking maid and I'm going to ensure we don't have one. Cause I'm killing this bitch," he snarled.

Pain erupted from her side, warmth pooling and washing down her hip. A cry tumbled from her lips as she stared down, looking at the knife that was now shoved deep into her side, the killer smiling maliciously in her face. His wrist sharply twisted, fire exploding as she tumbled below him. If it wasn't for his grip on her arm, she would have collapsed on the ground.

Ripping out the knife, the killer smirked, arrogance radiating from him. It only lasted a moment, before his head whipped to the side. Harper watched as Jeff stumbled backwards, his shocked eyes locking with Liu's clenched fist.

Jeff's lips curled as he twirled his knife. "Do I need to slice you up again?" he snarled, fury smoldering in his eyes. "Don't fuck with me, Liu. You stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

A dull smirk washed across Liu's face, his narrowed eyes entertained as he twisted the dark green scarf that hung around his neck. Ignoring him, he looked back at Harper, his eyes washing over her wounded side. "Go down the hall and take a right. Fifth door on your left. Tell him I sent you," he nodded, his voice bored.

It was pure agony standing, Harper using the wall to support herself as Jeff let out an enraged yell. Her heart flipped as he bolted forward, his bloody knife raised to pierce her again. Before he made it four steps, Liu crashed into him, sending Jeff into the wall. Cockily smiling, Liu nodded towards Harper, his dead eyes holding only a spark of amusement as Jeff twisted towards him.

Realizing Liu was going to distract Jeff, she began to hurry down the hall. Her side screamed with every step she took, blood drizzling onto the already red carpet. Sharp bangs and slams echoed behind her as the two killers fought, Harper wondered if Liu had only truly wanted to anger Jeff. Remembering his cold eyes, she thought that to be the case. The man seemed to have two halves—one friendly and kind. The other cold and mischievous.

Shaking the thoughts away, she focused on getting to whatever room he had told her to go to. It could be a room filled with rabid wolves for all she knew, but with this pain and increasing blood loss, she didn't care. Grimacing, she turned right at the end of the hall, her legs shaking as she forced them forward. Approaching the fifth door, her arm hesitated before she knocked.

Silence lingered, before she heard the sound of feet approaching. The door cracked open, squeaking harshly. Looking up, Harper saw a man staring down at her, his eyes a chilling red. If she hadn't been injured, she would have sprinted away just by those demonic eyes.

His hair was a shaggy black, falling down to the middle of his neck. The only other thing she noticed was the white hospital mask that kept half of his pale face from view, a jagged smile faintly drawn over it. His eyes were sharp, irritated as they looked her over. The door began to shut.

"Wait!" Harper cried, her side stinging as she clamped her hand over it to halt the bleeding. "L-Liu sent me. He told me to come here." The words were rushed as they sped past her lips. But he couldn't shut that door—she would surely die if he locked her away.

The man's eyebrows furrowed before a loaded sigh echoed against the paper mask. Opening the door a tad wider, he allowed her inside. Shuffling in, Harper's gaze swept over the hospital-like scene. A cheap hospital bed laid in the corner, crinkly paper laid on top. Cabinets lined the walls, jars filled with odd substances filling the ones she could see inside. Odd instruments covered the counter next to the bed, their grizzly appearance scaring her even more.

Hearing a sharp slap, she turned to see the man pulling on thin rubber gloves. "Why did Liu send you?" he asked, even though it truly did not sound like a question. His voice lacked any emotion, just as dreary as his eyes.

"I was stabbed in the side—some man named Jeff-"

He waved out his hand, irritation sparking within the red of his gaze. "I can see that—I am not blind. Why did he send a _human_ girl to my aid," he rephrased, as Harper hesitantly sat on the stiff hospital bed.

Holding back a groan of pain, she bit her lip, sucking in a harsh gulp of air. "I'm the mansion's new maid," she repeated for what seemed to be the hundredth time this day. "Um... the Slenderman allowed me to work here. That smiling man, Jeff, didn't appear to like the idea," she chuckled, without humor.

He nodded, no interest in sight on his blank face. From what she could see, anyway. Pulling up her blood soaked shirt to expose her wound, Harper hissed as it was exposed to the air. The tears that had welled in her eyes dripped over, the new man gathering supplies as she laid.

"I find it odd that he would bother with such," he bleakly replied. "Jeff the Killer isn't hardly the most brutal within these walls. You'll be dead within the week," he bluntly added.

Her tear-filled eyes still managed to narrow. "Aren't you nice," she sarcastically murmured before letting out a harsh yell as he began to work over her. Staring at one of the odd instruments on the bar, she refused to let her eyes wander to him working over her. She would lose every last bit of her sanity, what little hold she still had left on it. So close she was to simply falling apart and giving up.

"No, I'm not," he replied, just as uninterested as before while he continued to work. "No one here is _nice,_ if you have yet to notice."

Jerking harshly, she figured there would be no morphine involved. He could have at the very least knocked her out, yet she would just have to sit and endure the pain. Perhaps he did it on purpose.

"Liu was nice," she countered, managing to grit the words through her teeth, clenching her fists tightly. Never has she hurt so bad in her life.

The crude killer-doctor-man snorted, shaking his head. "I assure you, Homicidal Liu is not kind. Two sides of what's left of him. One can be pleasant, the other malicious. Since you mentioned Jeff, I'm guessing his assistance was merely to infuriate his brother. Not due to the kindness in his heart," he chuckled without humor.

His brother? Harper's head spun as she tried to block out the pain. Jeff the Killer, Homicidal Liu and Laughing Jack. What wonderful titles they all had, she bitterly thought.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to distract herself. Anything to keep her mind off of the pain that continued to rage as he stitched her back together.

"I'm called Doctor Smiley," he replied, not offering anything else.

Mentally cringing, Harper didn't think she could take much more involving smiles this day. She would call him Doctor, no more, no less. No more smiles. He merely nodded in return as she introduced herself. It seemed to agitate him having to talk, she realized. He was far more than closed off.

Peeking up at him, she realized that she recognized him. She had seen him walking with that blue-masked fellow on her way to the kitchen. Little did she care if anyone enjoyed her cooking now. The Doctor didn't appear to have even gone to breakfast, which she was thankful for.

"Who else lives here?" she tried again, aching for conversation. This was torturous enough as is.

He let out an angry huff, his boiling red eyes not moving from her wound. "Lots of creatures reside here," he stiffly replied, not giving her an inch.

She quivered as he said creatures. Obviously everyone here was more than human, yet she didn't want to even picture anything worse. A bad feeling twisted within her gut as she realized there were probably plenty of other demonic looking things looming the halls. Swallowing roughly, she managed to nod.

"I've met Jeff, Liu, Laughing Jack, Slenderman and his proxies. Should I be worried about anyone in particular more than them?"

Harper saw his jaw tightly clench, the Doctor growing more and more frustrated, she could tell. "Yes, you ignorant girl. Now please allow me to finish tending to this wound—I am not interested in entertaining you," he hissed, causing her to swallow roughly.

Zipping her lips, she allowed him to work in peace. Pain gnawed at her side, it taking everything within her not to scream. Him talking to her had helped—a lot actually. Now, she wasn't given even that luxury. She began to wonder what she has truly gotten herself into. She remembered the Slenderman telling her that the ones who lived here held more hate than him... Now she understood the true depths of his words. But she knew she couldn't leave. It was learn to accept things, or die. There was no in between.

Tears trickled down her cheeks, hopelessness weighing her down. What she wouldn't give for at least one of her friends to be here with her. She just couldn't deal with this all alone—how could anyone? She realized just how much the Doctor reminded her of Lyric. Blunt, rude and clipped. Yet he was obviously incredibly smart and seemed to be the most levelheaded person who resided here. It made her long for her deceased friend, aching to know what he would say if he were here right now. He more than likely would have twisted every word that had passed through Jeff's lips. He would have told her not to be so immediately trusting of Liu. And he and the Doctor more than likely would have been fast friends, she was sure.

Although she hated to admit it, Charlotte and Oliver more than likely wouldn't have made it too long, even if they _had_ survived entering the mansion. Charlotte's sweet behavior would leave her completely vulnerable. And Oliver's hot-headedness would have gotten him killed instantly.

All Harper couldn't understand was how she managed to stay alive this long already. Either luck was on her side, or she was just being punished. She would never know. Thoughts continued to spin throughout her mind as she lost track of time. She had no idea how long it was before the Doctor finished sewing up her side, wrapping a thick bandage around her torso.

"No sudden movements. Although I don't know how well you'll fare with that, considering where you are," he sighed, shaking his head. He pulled off the rubber gloves with a quick snap. "You'll have to come back before you are healed for me to cut out the stitches. If you are still alive, I will let you know," he murmured, standing and walking to the shelves.

Carefully sitting up, Harper bit her lip to the point of it bleeding due to the harsh throb in her side. She watched as the Doctor searched through on of the cabinets, his hand knocking into bottles as he sorted through them. Finally pulling one bottle out, he handed it to her.

"Take one each four hours if the pain becomes too intense. It should speed up the healing process as well," he informed her, appearing ready to shove her out of the room.

Gazing at the small bottle, she didn't see a name for the drug inside, or any description for what it was at all. "Um... what is it?" she breathed, her eyes flickering up to his. He could be giving her poison for all she knew.

Glaring, his red eyes simmered as he leaned back against the counter. "I don't have a _name_ for it, Miss. And I see little reason for concocting one. It isn't like anyone here truly cares, as long as it gets the job done."

"You made this?" she asked, rather impressed. Staring down at the small white tablets, she still couldn't help but debate whether or not she should even bother.

"Yes. And if it's not too bold to say, your medical facilities would die for it," he replied, and Harper could tell that behind his mask, his lips were pulled into a tight smirk.

Walking over to the sink, he grabbed a paper cup, filling it with water. Harper took out one of the small pills, figuring she didn't have much else to lose. After all, she doubted he would waste time on stitching her back together if he just intended on poisoning her afterward. Taking the cup from him, she quickly washed the pill down.

"Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it," she whispered, her eyes wearily flickering to the door. She had no desire to go back out into the hall. She was in no mood to meet anyone else this day. Or run into anyone she already has.

She heard the Doctor let out an agitated huff. "If you fear the mansion so much, why did you even bother wishing to work here?" he snapped, crossing his arms. He could read her like a book.

"It was that or die," she shrugged.

He laughed bitterly beneath his breath. "I see you're regretting that decision now." He was a silent for a moment, until his red eyes tightened even more. "If I escort you to your room, would you _please_ leave me be?" he snapped, realizing Harper had no intentions on leaving this room by herself.

She quickly nodded, bouncing up from her seat a tad too fast. She flinched, her side feeling as if it were being repetitively punched by a professional boxer. The Doctor rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. He seemed to have no patience whatsoever.

Stalking to the door, he yanked it open before storming outside, Harper hot on his heels. "Where is your room?" he spat, loosening his black tie. Harper noticed his white dress-shirt was now stained with her blood.

Giving him directions to the best of her ability, he began to stalk forward, Harper like a startled mouse as she followed after him.

"Could you please tell me about any one in particular that I really should avoid?" she pleaded, aching for any bit of information that would be useful.

Gritting his teeth, the Doctor sharply rounded the corner of the hall, shaking his head. "You should avoid anyone you can. I already told you there isn't a being in this mansion that is willing to sit down and have a nice chat with you immediately. My answer remains the same."

"How am I supposed to survive here, then?" she spat, terror nibbling on her bones. He was not easing her nerves one bit.

"You are not. I already mentioned that as well," he bleakly murmured, continuing to lead her. "If you are at a good place with Laughing Jack and Liu, then I would remain close to their side. Although I doubt that will truly be useful. Just because they aren't set on bringing you death at this moment doesn't mean they will be willing to stop anyone who is. Or they will remain that way. However, they can be your key to meeting others. My only other advice would be to become acquainted with whoever you can. You can't trust many, if any, but it is better to have them like you then determined to get rid of you."

It was the most she has heard him speak. It was rushed, yes, but enough to give her an idea of what to even do at this moment. "And you?" she asked, her voice small as he finally stopped in front of her door.

"What about me?" he sighed, his hellish eyes seeming to be shooting razors straight through her.

"Can I trust you?" she asked, needing the tiniest bit of reassurance. To know that there was at the very least one person she had no reason to worry about.

His glare was pointed, his patience run out. "I'm not planning on murdering you, if that is what you are asking. Otherwise I would have slammed the door in your face and been on my way," he snapped. "Or, better yet, experimented new medicines and medical techniques on you like my other patients instead of patch up your side," he sickly chuckled, his cheekbones raising as a hidden, wicked smile pulled across his face.

Quivering, Harper nodded. "Thank you again," she breathed, before opening the door to her room. The Doctor nodded, before turning and starting on his way back down the hall.

Entering her room, she quickly shut the door, locking it behind her. Her hand was shaking as she felt along the wall for the light switch, cringing as the light flooded the room. Her eyes were quick to speed around, making sure no unwanted guests were inside waiting for her. Letting out a sigh of relief, she saw that her room was empty.

Looking down, she noticed her blood-stained shirt was still damp, and she had not a thing to change into. Little point in taking a shower when she would just have to change back into that shirt. Taking a deep breath, she at least noticed that her side was now barely hurting. A small ache still remained, yet it wasn't nearly as bad as before. The Doctor's medicine must now be truly kicking in.

Walking over to her bed, she just about collapsed on top, only to remember that wouldn't be too smart considering her new wound. What was she going to do if she ran into another hostile killer? She was going to have make breakfast again in the morning. And the one after that, and the one after that... however long she stayed alive. Not to mention that the longer she did, more and more would be added onto her to-do list.

Thinking back to the Doctor's small pinch of advice, she made it a certain obligation to find Laughing Jack or Liu again tomorrow. Hopefully, Laughing Jack would haunt her dreams once again, or she'd run into Liu in the hall. But the agitation swirling within her stomach let her know that she wouldn't be that lucky. Perhaps she could talk to the Slenderman? Recalling his words, she remembered him clearly saying that he would not help her when it came to the others in the mansion. Masky and Hoodie neither seemed too willing, either.

Shutting her eyes, she simply willed for sleep to find her. The past couple of days had been the longest of her life and all she wanted was peaceful sleep. With or without that monochrome clown, she'd take it.

Right as she began to fall asleep, however, a knock sounded on her door.

* * *

 **Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

As the knocks grew impatient, Harper couldn't help the pang of annoyance she felt. Couldn't she be left alone after this rough day? Was it not enough she had to prepare a meal for so many monsters, get stabbed in the side by a crazed smiling man, then finally be patched up by a narcissistic, red-eyed doctor? It just never ended, she guessed.

Cringing, she stood from the bed, her lips a thin line as she approached the door. Her caution being melted away from her agitation, she didn't give things much thought as she yanked the door open. Luck was apparently on her side, seeing it was the white-masked man she had met yesterday—Masky. That look of strong disfavor has yet to leave his harsh blue eyes, his hidden lips more than likely set in a scowl.

Within his gloved grip, he cradled what appeared to be a small stack of clothes. Their colors varied, although mostly all were darker. Harper could see that it was simply a bleak mixture of t-shirts and pants, more than likely snatched up first opportunity. She wasn't going to complain, considering her blood stained shirt was beginning to stick to her skin.

"Boss wanted me to drop these off," he gruffly murmured, his arms shoving the items forward. Pursing her lips, Harper nodded as she took the clothes from his hands. She noticed his icy eyes look her over, pausing on her side. A dull chuckle radiated through him, his mask rising as he smirked. "Rough first day, newbie?" he sneered, crossing his arms.

Scowling, she only gave a curt nod in reply. His eyes sparkled in return. "Figured so. Boss wanted to see you as well—see if you survived more or less. I'm surprised. Didn't think you'd last a day," he taunted, leaning forward, far too close for comfort.

Harper's jaw clenched as she backed away. "Can't I meet with him in the morning? I'm exhausted," she muttered, still feeling the ache in her side. Even the Doctor's medicine couldn't make all the pain go away. She was just thankful it wasn't that raging fire still.

Masky's eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled, its wickedness shining through his mask. "You go ahead and wait until morning, girlie. Fine with me. I'll sit back with some popcorn and watch how well that works out for you," he snickered, his harsh laughs echoing against his mask.

Her teeth ground together as her fists tightened. "I think I have reason enough," she spat, her eyes flashing down to her side and bandaged hand.

The man just snorted. "It doesn't matter if you can't _walk_. If he wants you to see him, then you better find some way to do so. He's your boss now, remember? You do as he says. Your payment is the number of days you stay alive, and death is the same thing as being fired."

Harper could see the pure joy he was getting out of her misery. Even still, she could see a distinct difference between Masky and the others she has met. He was a normal human—just like her. That brought her some comfort, at least. He was a human and he was surviving here... shouldn't that mean she could, too? His yellow jacket shuffled as he shifted his wait, a bored sigh falling from his lips.

"Fine," she growled, setting down her clothes before starting forward. Stopping in front of him, she watched his chest shake as he silently laughed.

Twisting, Masky started off down the hall, not waiting to keep pace with her. She bit her lip, noting that was a common trait of the men who have led her throughout the mansion. If she didn't keep up, then it was her problem alone. She supposed that was to be expected among killers—why should they have manners or decency?

Focusing on the blood red rug, she forced her aching feet forward to keep up with Masky. He wound the halls, his stance casual. He didn't appear worried about meeting any of the other inhabitants, not to mention he knew his way around like the back of his hand. What would it take for her to reach that, she wondered. Not to mention how long it would take, or if she could even manage such.

"How long have you worked for Slenderman?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper as they rounded the halls. Just because he was at ease with the mansion didn't mean that she was.

"A while," he murmured in reply, obviously uninterested in conversation or revealing a thing to her. Harper could only sigh, shaking her head.

Finally, he paused outside a door, his blue eyes snapping back to her. Snorting softly, he turned, knocking loudly on the wooden door. Harper's stomach curled as she heard Slender's deep voice call for them to enter. Masky pushed open the door, while she hesitantly followed behind him.

Her eyes peered around at the office, more than impressed as she took a cautious step inside. The walls were lined with bookshelves that were each filled to the brim. A couch sat positioned in front of his mahogany desk, its black leather simply shining. Not one thing appeared out of place, from the perfectly centered rug to the flawlessly stacked papers that sat on the desk.

Swallowing roughly, Harper finally managed to look up and meet the gaze of Slenderman—at least where she thought it to be. He was currently leaning back in his chair behind the desk, his fingers folded in front of him. More at ease than when she had seen him in the woods, his coat was slung against the back of his chair, his tie loosely hanging. Even that didn't soothe her tense shoulders, the faceless man sending chills down her spine. He killed her friends.

As if reading her mind, his cheekbones rose, a bass rumble of a chuckle vibrating his chest. "I see you survived," he mused as one arm stretched forward, his long fingers signaling for her to sit down.

Complying, she robotically walked forward, carefully sitting down on the couch. The leather uncomfortably squeaked as she shifted, biting her lip as his unnervingly hidden gaze appraised her. His head shifted up, focusing on Masky who still stood by the door.

"You may go," he ordered, Masky immediately twisting and shutting the door behind him.

Swallowing roughly, she twisted her ankles, trying to calm her speeding heart. The room was seeming to shrink in on her, it becoming hard to breathe. She wondered how anyone could manage to stay within his company for long?

"You don't seem to have many words. Is the mansion not to your liking?" he chuckled wickedly. The amused edge was back in his velvet tone, one she remembered from the day before.

Harper's eyes pricked as she once again met his gaze, having to heavily think through her words before speaking them aloud. "Your mansion is lovely. Its inhabitants, however, are not," she managed to force through her clenched teeth.

Her hatred for the man swelled within her heart as he joyfully laughed, the sound echoing within the room. "I warned you they wouldn't be, did I not? Seeing your bandaged hand and bloodstained side, it appears you were not welcomed."

Scowling, she looked away, aching to run back to her room. Sleep was calling her name, hoping to escape this madness for at least a moment. But, even then she wouldn't, if a certain clown appeared.

"The breakfast this morning was perfect, just as I had hoped. It was nice not having to act as a servant in my own home," he continued, changing the subject. "You have started your work to my expectations. It would be best that you continue to do so," he added, leaning back in his chair. "As time goes on, more things shall be added on to your list of things to do. Before then, you should grow used to the mansion—and its inhabitants to the best of your ability," he chuckled hatefully.

"Can I not have one of your proxies to accompany me?" she spat, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them. "I have nearly been killed on more than one occasion this day. It would be nice to focus on my work instead of crazed men trying to kill me at every turn," she hissed.

"Once again, I warned you that you wouldn't last. Now you see I wasn't joking." Leaning up, his voice grew in volume, all humor gone. "I will not order a proxy to accompany you. If it weren't for my word, they would have been rid of you already—you should be thankful of that alone. In fact, you should be groveling at my feet after all I have done. Would you have preferred to have the same fate as your young friends?" he growled, all hint of velvet missing.

Harper flinched as his words struck her sharply. "No."

"Wrong response. I am your boss now, as you are aware, and you will treat me as such. Not as an equal, nor as an acquaintance." His voice grew even darker as her stomach churned.

"No, sir," she corrected herself. Her voice was even smaller than before, the words like acid on her tongue.

"Better." His barely visible smirk was taunting, daring her to speak out of place again. "It would be wise that you learn your place here. Masky!" he called.

The proxy shoved his way inside the door within a second, Harper jolting within her seat. Had he been waiting outside that entire time?

"Escort the maid back to her room. You are then dismissed for the night," he murmured, pulling forward one of the papers on his desk, along with a pen.

Harper wondered what kind of paperwork the _Slenderman_ would be doing. Standing, she figured it would probably be best left unknown. Without looking back, she rushed out the door, feeling instant relief after she exited from the room.

"Not go as well as you had hoped?" Masky sneered, leading her down the halls.

Shrugging, Harper let out a clipped laugh. "Better. I didn't expect anything nice with the Slenderman."

She was shocked to hear a strangled laugh come from the masked man, that he quickly tried to cover with a cough.

Both were silent the rest of the time they wound the halls, until Masky finally paused. Nodding his head, he continued on his way as Harper finally entered her bedroom. Locking her door, she nearly fled to the bed, exhausted on her feet. Falling down onto the sheets, she was asleep in minutes.

The clown never made an appearance.

xxx

Sweat gleamed on the back of Harper's neck as she sped around the kitchen, preparing all of the meals for the monsters of this mansion. It was truly miserable, having to be certain all the meals were correct, the right things cooking at once, not burning anything... Truthfully, she had no idea how one woman was expected to maintain all of this. Still, it was not impossible.

The morning had been rough, sleepily forgetting her aching side. Furiously she had grabbed for her pills, once again forgetting her wounded hand. It seemed like nothing would go right, not even ten minutes into the new day. After frustratedly sorting through her new clothes, carefully showering and fearfully making her way to the kitchen, she was now trying to finish her job.

Her eyes were frequently flickering to the door of the kitchen, wondering if the smiling man would pay her another visit. Ice remained wedged into her veins as his raspy voice growled within her mind. Never did she want to see Jeff the Killer again. It did little to soothe her, knowing he was under the same roof. He always would be—it was certain she would come across his path again. It was unavoidable, impossible.

Sighing, she nudged open the door to the dining room, preparing to set up the plates for each of the monsters. Looking at the directions on her note, it was like putting the pieces to a puzzle together. Back and forth she trailed from the kitchen to the table, figuring out where each should go. Only, when she returned with the final plate, she saw she wasn't alone.

In fact, there were three new beings in the room.

The filled plate within her grip nearly clattered to the floor as her hands began to shake. Her hazel eyes appeared wild as she gazed at each of the new beings, the two who had been talking now silent.

One was a man wearing entirely green. In fact, he looked familiar—like a character from an old video game. His ears were pointed like an elf's, his green tunic and hat enhancing the likeness. Only, his eyes were pitch black, his pupils a striking red. His smirk slowly fell as he noticed her, anger sparking within those already demonic eyes. Blood began to trickle down his cheeks.

To his side stood a masked man, his shocked blue eyes set on her. Besides his mask, he looked rather normal, almost like Masky in a way. His hair was a deep onyx—completely opposite from the elf's dirty blonde. His mask was simply white, blank besides the sloppy red smile that appeared to be painted on. His blue jacket had an odd pin, which was a smiley face as well.

Lastly was the lone man who currently stood in the corner. His stance was tense, prepared to spring, and Harper recognized him. She saw him before, walking with the Doctor in the hall. His navy mask was intimidating, black liquid oozing from his empty eye sockets. Her heart dropped when she noticed the scalpel slide into his hand from up his sleeve.

"Well, sweet cheeks, who might you be?" the elf growled, blood from his eyes beginning to dribble onto the floor.

Harper's face had now lost all its color, fear engulfing her completely. There was three of them. She couldn't run. Couldn't try to fight them all off. She had to think of something different if she wanted to survive the next hour.

"I'm Harper," she breathed. "The new maid." The repetitive words were beginning to aggravate her, but she had to see how they would respond. Liu and Jack reacted positively, although Jeff did not. Who knew what these three would do.

"New maid?" the blue-eyed man snorted. "Slender must have found a new pet," he chuckled, shaking his head.

Sucking in a deep breath, Harper didn't try to deny it. If they accepted that, then she would gladly be called a pet. The elf man took a step forward, squinting at her.

"You a new proxy? You aren't like us," he snorted, although distrust still filled his glare.

Without a second thought, she agreed. "Yes, I'm a new proxy here," she hastily replied, eager for them to accept her. It was what she needed. The tiny fib would save her for now, but still made her stomach churn. What if they found out it was a lie later on?

The elf laughed. "Slender needs to ease up on the proxies. He has enough of them, if you ask me. Guess the bastard is just tired of cleaning and cooking," he snickered, lightening up a bit. "I'm Ben. This here is Bloody Painter, and that guy over there is Eyeless Jack," he smirked, crossing his arms.

"It's nice to meet you," Harper whispered, carefully sitting down the plate of food at the last spot. Her eyes hesitantly flickered to the other two.

The Bloody Painter now seemed uninterested, yet he nodded her way. He almost looked disappointed, which caused her mouth to dry. And Eyeless Jack... his hidden glare sent shivers down her spine. He hasn't spoken a word, but that awful gaze has not moved from her as she walked. His tense form hadn't loosened like the others.

"So do you out and kill like Masky, Hoodie and Toby? Or are you just the maid?" The Bloody Painter asked, pulling out his chair at the table and sitting.

Swallowing, she wondered how she should reply. Would they be angry if she didn't kill? One lie was enough, however. "I am just the maid," she whispered, cracking a forced grin. Who was Toby? So many questions, yet all she wanted was to get out of here. "I need to go clean up the kitchen now. Have a nice breakfast," she nodded, trying to brighten her smile before calmly walking to the door. Inside, she had wanted to run as Ben's smirk dropped due to her previous answer.

Once inside the safety of the kitchen, she finally pulled a gust of air into her lungs. She had survived meeting three more of the mansion's monsters... perhaps she could do this. She could make it here—and she now had the proxy addition if it was needed. Fear still clung to her as she wondered what would happen once they found out it was all a lie.

Her thoughts were knocked away when a tight grip clamped on her shoulder. She was spun around to face the man with the navy mask—the one who hadn't said a word. She froze as she felt the tip of his scalpel pressed against her stomach in warning.

"You're not a proxy, are you?" his deep voice hissed, tears pricking in her eyes. He had her backed against the counter, no where to run. One move and another weapon would be shoved through her, which was the last thing she needed. She heard his raspy chuckle as he shook his head. "You might have fooled those two imbeciles. But you are a plain human, aren't you?"

His hidden gaze was harsh as it locked with hers, refusing her to look away. "I t-told you I am the maid," she stuttered, not answering his question.

He tightened his grip on her shoulder, a low growl building in the back of his throat. He was almost like... an animal, the way that growl rumbled. "Humans aren't allowed within these walls, little girl. If you aren't deemed a proxy, you aren't under Slender's protection. Therefore," he chuckled, his scalpel drawing blood, "you're an easy harvest."

Silence lingered within the walls as Harper gazed at him, confusion now mingling with the fear in her eyes. "A... what?"

He didn't respond. Instead, his hand tightly grabbed hold of her arm before he began to drag her from the room. Storming down the halls, Harper tugged furiously at her arm, stumbling along as he pulled. His fingers were like a vice, unwavering as she yanked. Tears miserably trickled down her cheeks as her eyes sought out someone—anyone—that could possibly help. But not a soul passed by as Eyeless Jack drug her along, finally pausing outside a door as he opened it.

The stench of decay slammed against her face like a brick wall. The flickering lights above appeared to be on their last limb, giving the grotesque hospital room an even eerier appearance. As he pulled her inside, she noticed the likeness to the Doctor's room—although a significant difference. His had been neat, orderly, _clean._ Eyeless Jack's, however, belonged to a horror film.

The white paper on his stiff hospital bed was coated with layers of dried blood. The cuffs at the sides were once a brown leather—now peeling with what appeared to be decaying flesh clinging to the edges. His last victim tried to rip themselves free...

Tears welled in her eyes as he threw her down on the brick-like bed, her stomach dropped as he locked one of her wrists in the disgusting cuff. Beginning to thrash, she tried with all her might to rip away, to run. She would rather face Jeff one hundred times than to meet this grizzly end. Seeing the rusted medical tools that laid on the tables side made her fight even harder, furious yells crashing through her lips.

"Quiet!" he ordered, his growl growing in volume. It was close to a vicious snarl, Harper's face a sickly white.

She felt every drop of hope dash away as he finally locked her down to the table, her tears blurring her vision. Still, she made out what appeared to be an old refrigerator that sat in the corner. The white was stained and scratched, the handle lathered in dry blood. It was no secret what laid inside. She remembered the breakfasts she had to make—the one that unnerved her more than any other. The raw organs. Harvest.

"Help me!" she screeched, tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed. She was about to be dissected like a frog, each of her organs ripped out of her as she watched.

The cannibal laughed harshly beneath his breath, shaking his head. "Scream all you like. The walls are soundproof—not to mention not a single killer here would be willing to help you if they heard," he chuckled.

Lifting his mask, she watched as he licked his lips, his sharpened teeth causing her shaking to worsen. His skin was a gross shade of grey, the black liquid that trickled from his eye sockets smeared against his lips.

"I-I'm supposed to be here," she cried, finally allowing herself to break down, all the suffering from the past three days crumbling at once. "Just leave me alone!"

"You aren't _supposed_ to be here, girl," Eyeless Jack hissed, his grin now a thick scowl. "This place is one for killers—not for the likes of you," he rasped, venom dripping from his words.

His scalpel shined as he twisted it between his fingers, his smirk slowly returning. "Now. Where shall we begi-"

A harsh knock on his door interrupted him, before it opened.

"Jack could I possibly borrow-" The voice fell silent as the blood-red eyes met with Harper's.

Her heart fled even faster, that small pinch of hope returning as she gazed at the Doctor. Recalling his previous clipped, unfriendly attitude, she was unsure whether or not he _would_ help her. But he wasn't an enemy. There was a chance.

His brows furrowed, his usually dull eyes flickering with annoyance. "Why do you have the maid tied up?" he sighed, looking back to the cannibal.

Jack frowned, appearing confused due to the Doctor's question. Pulling his mask the rest of the way off, he snorted. "She's a human, Smiley. That shouldn't even be a question," he snapped back, crossing his arms. "Now what do you need?"

The red flickered back to Harper as she mentally begged him not to go. Not to ignore her and let the monster finish what he had almost started.

"So are Slender's proxies," he snorted in return, to her relief.

Stepping forward, his crimson eyes stayed locked on her, his hospital mask hiding the rest of his expression from view. Right as he touched one of the cuffs, however, Jack growled.

"You should know not to mess with my meals," he snapped, furious. "You care less than any of us over a human life. Just tell me what you need and leave!" Jack snarled like a rabid beast.

Bored, the Doctor's cold eyes glared at Jack, avoiding Harper's begging glance. "You are not going to waste my work," he scoffed, pulling up her shirt to expose the finely stitched wound. "Not to mention you seem to be well stocked on food already. Speaking of that, isn't it time for breakfast? Your meal the _maid_ prepared is getting cold," he growled, the red of his eyes darkening. They were nearly black as he cocked his head to the side, daring Jack to challenge him again.

The cannibal's growl grew in volume, yet he didn't stop the Doctor as he released her from the cuffs. Nearly tumbling from the stained hospital bed, Harper had to restrain from hugging on to the red-eyed man who saved her from being gutted. Although she wanted to, she knew that he wouldn't appreciate it at all. In fact, he already looked humiliated having to help her.

Nodding towards Jack, he exited the room, Harper hot on his heels. Right as the door shut, the words pushed through her lips.

"Thank you, Doctor-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," he snarled, fire in those red eyes. "It infuriates me enough having to piss off Eyeless Jack to help you. I don't need your appreciation on top of it. Did you not listen to me yesterday?" he spat.

Glaring, Harper brushed her hand over her eyes to rid them of the tears. "Of course I listened. What was I supposed to do when the cannibal cornered me with a scalpel slammed against my stomach?" she seethed, tired of the constant castigation and threats. "I tried telling him I was a maid. I even went as far as saying I was a proxy, yet he didn't believe me like the elf man and Bloody Painter did."

The Doctor let out a harsh huff of air that echoed against his mask. "Ben Drowned and the Bloody Painter must have not cared enough to truly think over your words. The few proxies the Slenderman has are just as brutal as the rest of us. You couldn't fight off a fly," he scoffed, shaking his head. "You had better hope they don't figure out your lie, which they surely will," he sighed, glaring pointedly at the wall.

"It's obvious I'm not going to make it here, Doctor," she laughed humorlessly. "It was by simple luck you wandered in today. Otherwise all my organs would currently be missing."

His eyes narrowed. Then, he took her arm, starting off in fast pace down the hall. His grip was less harsh than Jack's, but Harper still had to run to catch up with him. If she slowed any more, the man would probably just drag her.

"Where are we going?" she tiredly asked, ready just to hide away in her room for the rest of the day. All of her will had crumbled, leaving her feeling like an empty pit. This was a waste of time.

"To talk to the Slenderman," he curtly bit back, twisting through the halls.

A choked laugh managed to fall through her lips as she shook her head. "That's a waste of time. I talked to him last night." Staring at him oddly, she wondered why he was even bothering to help. Jack had said he cared less than anyone about human lives.

He didn't respond, finally pausing outside the familiar office door. Knocking harshly, his eyes boiled as he waited for Slender's voice.

"Enter," the deep velvet spoke, the Doctor entering within a second.

Unlike last night, Slender was standing to the side of his desk, his jacket on and his tie straight. The amused edge was back in his features as he watched the Doctor tug in the maid. Crossing his arms, he let out a quiet chuckle.

"Is the girl giving you trouble, Doctor Smiley?" he asked, his cheekbones lifted as he smirked.

"The others within the mansion are the ones with a problem," he snapped, releasing Harper's arm. "I am just the one who has to fix what they start. Tell me, why is it you can not give her protection while she works here? It would make her life, along with mine, easier."

Slender's brows rose as the Doctor's demanding words rang within the room. Harper flinched, not daring to meet the Slenderman's gaze.

"I believe she could have answered that question. And, Doctor Smiley, her issues do not have to be yours if you do not wish for them to be," he chuckled as the Doctor glared.

"This is ridiculous," the Doctor spat, shaking his head. "You want a maid, yet how is she supposed to work when nearly everyone is dying to kill her? You must be eager to prepare everyone's meals again if you care so little for her life," he cockily laughed, Harper's eyes snapping to him. That was a smart way to go about it.

Anger now radiated off of the Slenderman, his brows smashing together. "It is obvious I do not. Why do you?"

"I don't," the Doctor immediately replied, shaking his head. Harper's heart fell in disappointment, his words stinging. "I just find the entire thing to be ignorant. I thought more of you," he boldly added. Looking hardly, Harper managed to see the thin outline of his hidden smirk.

The lights in the room flickered, Harper taking a step closer to the Doctor as Slender's tentacles quivered with his rage.

"If you claimed her as a proxy, then I am sure that I would have less work to handle, and more work would get done," the Doctor continued, unintimidated.

Harper stared at him in awe, wondering how he spoke to the angered Slenderman without a hint of fear. She wondered if it was because he was the Doctor here—if he was needed to the point where his life couldn't be touched.

"That I refuse," Slenderman growled. "If you are so concerned, then make her _yours_ instead. I need no more, and that is known."

The Doctor's red eyes widened, his smirk fading. "I haven't the need for one."

"Then it will remain your problem," Slender spat.

The crimson in the Doctor's eyes faded to pitch black. Harper could see the rage building within the black, and knew if this argument continued, it would more than likely end with her death. Tugging lightly on the Doctor's sleeve, she nodded to the door. His scowl was dark as he pulled his arm away, stalking out the door without a word. Harper followed, relieved to leave that awful room once again.

She knew that the Doctor couldn't possibly believe it is his obligation to aid her every day. Was it the fact that he thought it was what she expected? That she would run to him every time something went wrong? The realization was like a slap to the face. He wasn't concerned for her... just having to deal with her. Still, if that were the fact, then he could have simply got what he needed from Jack and left earlier.

The man was like a complex puzzle, unable for her to figure out. It would be best not to question it. Her eyes watched as he stiffly leaned against the wall, the red slowly trickling back into his eyes.

"Why aren't you at breakfast?" she wondered, needing to break the lasting silence. It was one of her many questions, it at least a simple one to fill the quiet. He didn't go yesterday, either.

"I don't eat," he stiffly replied, not meeting her gaze.

"At all?"

"No."

Shifting where she stood, Harper sucked in a deep breath. "Doctor, you don't have to concern yourself with this. I wont come running to you whenever I need help," she murmured.

His eyes flickered to her once before he shook his head. Shrugging off the wall, he turned down the hall without a word.

He knew it was a lie.

* * *

 **Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

Sitting by the window, Harper stared out at the bleak word. All there was to see were the hundreds of trees that just spread off into the distance.

Swallowing roughly, she just wanted the ground to swallow her up, preventing her from ever seeing another one of the beings that lived in this mansion. Although, she did wonder what would happen if she were to try and leave; people come into these woods all the time and do not receive such a terrible fate. If the Slenderman was unaware of her attempted escape, could she possibly make it out?

Her heart stuttered as the thoughts became even more tempting. There was just enough daylight left so she could get a good distance into the trees. As long as no one knocked on her door, they shouldn't notice her absence. All she had to do was get out in one piece.

Jerkily, she stood, hurrying to the door to her room. Memories of the navy masked cannibal and smiling psychopath halted her for a moment, unease spilling throughout her veins. She could run into them on her way out. Or someone _worse_. There wouldn't be a Doctor to come to her aid this time, after all. It still frustrated her to know that she was a bother to him—the one person in this mansion she could trust even a little.

Shaking all the thoughts away, she figured she may as well try. It was worth it to see if she could manage to get outside, past the trees and finally _home._ It has been positively hell trying not to think of her loved ones that were probably worried sick. She hadn't seen her parent regularly for years, only managing to on holidays due to college. But that didn't mean they wouldn't be devastated once the news arrived that she was missing. Did they think that she was dead?

Opening the door, Harper slipped out into the hall. Silently she begged that she wouldn't run into anyone, not a single soul. Rushing down the hall, she would tentatively peek around the edge, only to continue on once she saw it remained empty. Perhaps it was a good thing this mansion was so large—plenty of places for all the monsters to lurk instead of being crammed together.

A cold sweat began to break out on the back of her neck as she saw the grand staircase, the massive front doors right in reach. Tripping over her feet, she caught hold of the rail to refrain from falling, her eager feet hurrying for that door. It was her first gateway to freedom, or possibly death. Now wasn't the time for thinking about such.

Using all her strength, she pushed open the front door, flinching as the hinges creaked. The setting sun gleamed down as she took a fearful step outside, shutting the door behind her.

It couldn't be that easy, could it? For her to just step out, unnoticed, without a single soul trying to stop her? She was certain that the bastard Slenderman would know the second that it happened. Gulping, she hurried down the steps, the dead grass cracking as she entered the usually empty circle in the center of the forest.

Biting her lip, she headed for the treeline, it taking everything within her to push forward. To not let her thoughts bring her fear, enough to make her turn back. She had to make it out of here, had to make it home. But what on earth would she say? Not a soul would believe this. No one would believe the faceless monster called the Slenderman killed her friends, spared her, then made her a _maid_ to his _mansion._ A mansion filled to the brim with serial killers eager to bring her death.

Getting lost would be a better explanation. Getting lost, and _something_ had attacked her friends. The less said, the better. She just needed to focus on getting out.

Pausing at the edge of the dying grass, she peered into the choking land of trees, their odd appearance seeming to repel her. Just as they originally had when she and her friends had first entered. They should have listened to the silent warning and went about her way. But she _had_ to get out of here, now.

Taking a deep breath, she took a cautious step forward.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

A scream caught in Harper's throat as she whipped around, the enchanting voice obliterating her plans immediately. The voice's owner laughed as she held her hand to her heart, her eyes wide as she looked him over.

It was yet another being she hadn't met. And he was certainly unique, just like the rest of him. Like Eyeless Jack, his skin was a pale grey, almost as if all the life had been sucked out of him. His black hair hung past his shoulders, brittle and dry. A hat laid on the back of his head, partially hidden from the angle he faced her, although she could see it was a dark grey like the rest of his clothes. The most striking thing, however, was the man's eyes.

The were a bright gold, almost as if rays of sunshine spewed from them. There was no white, no pupil. Just striking yellow, along with his mouth as he smiled. His teeth were not rotting or decaying, she could tell. It was just that strange yellow glow, just like his eyes.

"Who are you?" she demanded, tensely edging for the tree's cover. She debated running, sprinting if he was dangerous like some of the others she had met. She had already dealt with enough this day.

"The Puppeteer," he nodded, his smile thinning into a crooked grin. "You are Harper, correct? Laughing Jack spoke of a human girl he met that now lived in the mansion—a maid," he hummed, not moving a muscle. Still, she didn't relax.

"Yes, I am," she breathed, teetering were she stood. She had not a clue what to do as this man—the Puppeteer—gazed over her, those odd eyes hard to look away from. Not to mention his voice seemed to belong to an angel, like sweet music. "Are you going to kill me now?" she scoffed, tired of dancing around the topic like she had with everyone else. He already knew who she was and what she was here for. All that was left was figuring out if she should run.

Those gold eyes sparkled as his grin pulled wider. She merely blinked and he was now standing right in front of her. Jumping, her heart sped as his chuckle rumbled within his chest. "Would you like me to?" his beautiful voice breathed, melting her bones.

Her jaw dropped in awe, her nerves seeming to sing as his words wove their magic, those golden eyes almost persuading her to do whatever he said. Feeling like jelly, she didn't even flinch as she noticed his hand rise, his fingerless glove allowing her to see the odd golden strings that slithered from his fingertips. Twisting his hand, one rose, gently caressing her cheek.

Shivering, she fought to remember why she was out here, what her plans had been, her _name._ It was as if her thoughts were wiped clear from her head.

"All you have to do is ask," he continued, the melody of his voice causing her blood to boil.

Shutting her eyes, Harper deliberately took a step back, roughly shaking her head. What was wrong with her? "No!" she spat, viciously shaking her head. "Why would I want that?"

Her eyes were like fire as he heartily laughed, those odd strings snapping back into place, wherever that may be. "Disappointing as it is, I was expecting such. You aren't seeking death—you are fighting to stay away from it as is," he grinned as she stared in confusion. "You can relax, Miss. I only bring death to those who ask for it. A little game, you could say," he sneered, although his voice sounded like the sweetest symphony.

"And who would ask for it?" she grimaced, tempted to run. This odd man unnerved her to the point where just looking at him shot fear throughout her.

"You'd be surprised," he snorted, crossing his arms. "I could always try to change your mind. I'm _awfully_ convincing as you could well imagine." Cruelty clung to his lovely voice, Harper's breath catching as he smirked. "But, since you work at the mansion, I suppose I shouldn't bother. Were you trying to leave?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Biting her lip, Harper tilted her head back towards the trees, looking out into the distance. It would be silly to try right now. This man, whom appeared out of no where, could alert Slenderman immediately. Then she'd be done for.

"I was... thinking about it," the muttered, refusing to meet those golden eyes.

She heard him let out a sigh, his straight hair swishing as he shook his head. "Like I said, I wouldn't do that if I were you. When the Slenderman isn't out within the woods, the Rake usually lurks throughout them. If he were to catch you wandering alone, you would be a pretty meal," he humorlessly laughed.

Her eyebrows furrowed as her frown deepened. "The Rake?" That was certainly a new one. She hadn't heard of this being yet, but if it continuously roamed the woods, then it must be more... animalistic.

The Puppeteer's grin widened, his cheekbones sharp. Leaning forward, he allowed his gloved palm to rest against the tree beside her head. She was just at the edge of the forest now, her feet barely still planted on the faded grass of the center.

"Yes, the Rake. I presume no one has told you of him yet—otherwise I doubt you'd be so eager to leave," he snickered, Harper's jaw tightening due to his close proximity and captivating voice. "He isn't exactly like the others you have met. Not even the Slenderman," he wickedly laughed. "I would know this due to not a soul in that mansion being like the demon. If it found you out in these woods, you wouldn't last a minute, darling. And by the time he was finished, all that would be left of you would be bones. Perhaps not even that—I heard he simply swallowed them whole."

Ripping away from him, she bared her teeth as she scowled. "You're only trying to frighten me," she accused, although a chilling pain did seep down her spine. If such did exist... "People come into these woods and come back alive plenty. If that so called monster _did_ roam out there when Slenderman does not, how come not a soul knows of him?"

His laugh was like the peal of bells, the gold in his eyes simply glittering. "It's not up to me what you believe. If you do decide to leave, then best of luck to you. People do come within these woods, you are right. But we can't draw too much attention, as you can well imagine. That's why Slenderman and the Rake are the only two who ever hunt here. In all reality, that is rare as well," he mused, shrugging his shoulders.

It just seemed like the more he spoke, the more confused she became. "What do you mean rare? How could any of you kill anywhere else?" she grit out of her clenched teeth. She hated her curiosity, along with the fact that he made it near impossible not to ask.

Tilting his head, his grin fell a tad before a clipped laugh sounded in his throat. "You truly don't know anything about this place, do you? I hope that you know enough to notice how this mansion technically doesn't exist. To all the others, it is an empty circle of land. Rumors of multiple dimensions—which is actually the truth. This hell on earth is a simple gateway, providing us all with a place to stay. Not all of us are here at once. Some of us, myself included, have different abilities."

Shutting her eyes, she opened them to see he was gone. Her jaw dropped, spotting him standing in the far distance, leaning against the side of the mansion. The next second, he was back. He hadn't made a move, yet he traveled such a distance.

"Different groups go at a time to different places. Do our jobs, then return. I must say, without the Slenderman, Laughing Jack, Observer and myself, things would be rather difficult for the others," he smugly grinned, pride shining within his eyes.

"So what you're basically saying... is across the world, the four of you take groups, kill in the area, and return? Like _that_ is a job?" she hissed.

"That sounds about correct, although curtly put. You don't seem to truly know what you've gotten yourself into, silly girl. As you hopefully know, we aren't normal people. We are not humans, and we have an entirely different purpose than your little mortal self. How you expect to live amongst those who are only meant to kill I do not know," he sneered, situating his gloves.

All blood was now drained from her cheeks, his words each like a punch to the gut. Yes, from what she had known it had been bad enough residing here. But with just the partial truth, it only made it worse. She couldn't even try to run out through the woods because of the Rake. There wasn't a drop of hope, like she has been repetitively told. Angry tears welled within her eyes as she avoided the Puppeteer's gaze, his mouth softening into a gentle smile.

"I can make things easier for you, darling," he breathed, stepping closer, just as he had before. "There is nothing but pain and suffering within those walls. Nothing but a hunting monster within the trees. Slenderman was incredibly cruel, using you for his cheap entertainment to watch you survive. Instead of a quick, easy death, all you received was a slow torture—almost like being starved," he sighed, his smile falling.

Those gold eyes forced her gaze to lock with his, holding them without any effort. "Bets are likely being made, if they haven't already. How long you'll last. Who will end up taking your life. Did you believe there was anything more? It's purely sickening—I am a fan of quick, painless deaths. I even offer a choice, as you know; isn't that far more civil? I can see the pain in your eyes, darling. I can take it all away. I just need your word and it will all be gone," he breathed, his melodious tone causing her knees to shake.

Shutting her eyes, she felt the pain from his words, along with the intense desire to beg him to end it all. It was like a siren's call, gentle, caring. Offering the world and sounding so sweet. A hypnotic melody.

But she did remember just who he was.

Snapping her eyes open, she jerked away from him, jolting a few feet back _towards_ the mansion. "I'm not falling for that," she growled, ignoring the tears that trickled down her cheeks. The Puppeteer's gold eyes were wide with shock, his mouth hanging open. "No, the answer is no! Just leave me alone," she snapped, ignoring the crack in her voice.

The lump in her throat made it hard to breathe as she stormed back to the mansion. Peeking behind her, she saw that the Puppeteer was gone. A nagging part of her mind wondered whether she should have taken him up on his offer. But the other, more prideful side, refused to give him the satisfaction. It was all that he wanted, not a drop more.

Storming inside, she allowed the massive door to slam behind her. The nearby vases rattled, her attention focused only only the stairs. All she wanted was to get to her room and sleep—hopefully without a clown's appearance. The last thing she wanted right now was to deal with any other monsters that lived here.

Finally shoving open her door, she all but collapsed on her bed. She had survived another day, yet now... it didn't seem so much like a win. Only prolonging the inevitable.

xxx

Harper's lips were a stiff line as she prepared breakfast. It was becoming the norm, easier, she noted. Where to place the meals, what to start on first. It was the one time she could lose herself enough to not think about her current predicament. Still, her eyes flickered to the doors, knowing someone could enter at any second. Even though she promised the Doctor she wouldn't come to his aid, it was a bold lie. It wasn't like she would allow herself to die, just so she wouldn't annoy him.

Her eyes were dull as she picked at her own breakfast as she waited for the last set of toast to pop. Truthfully, she wasn't very hungry. She barely ate the past few days, her uneasy stomach making it nearly impossible. Still, she had to eat to survive. And with enough odds against her, she figured she may as well not add to that massive pile.

It wasn't long before she finished setting the plates, slumping against the long table in relief that no one had entered. Thankfully, she managed to complete her job without interruption. Heading back into the kitchen, she hurriedly cleaned up before peeking outside the door. The hall was empty, making her wonder just what exactly she should do now? She was still too timid to try and explore this place. Had not a soul to visit to keep her company. None that wouldn't be irritated, at least.

Biting her lip, she wondered what the Doctor would do if she _did_ visit? This time there wouldn't be anything for him to help her with. She could assist him with something that he needed. But would it be risky if she even tried? Pushing him far enough to where just the sight of her would be infuriating? He would probably slam the door in her face.

Immediately tossing the thought aside, she figured there wasn't anything else to do but sit and hide in her room. But truly, could she manage to do that every single day? Was it much better than death to hide away, hoping that everyone ignores her until she rots away? She might as well explore the mansion just a little—after all, there wasn't much to lose. Taking a deep breath, she left the kitchen.

Hurrying through the halls, she paused at every edge to make sure she wouldn't pass anyone. Only once did she have to stop, seeing what appeared to be a black shadow creeping down the hall, their back turned to her. She hasn't met this monster yet, nor did she desire to. Waiting at the corner, she watched until he finally disappeared, spotting his shocking white eyes for only a moment.

Shivering, she forced her feet forward, gazing around at the dusty paintings, smeared to the point where their picture could barely be seen. This massive place must have once stood in glory, far more beautiful than the dark scene it has now become. Considering the mansion's purpose, she wouldn't be surprised if it has never seen such days.

Pausing to gaze out one of the hall's window, she tried her hardest to ignore the moth-eaten drapes that sadly hung by its side. Her mouth formed a stiff line as she remembered her venture outside yesterday and the malevolent being she had met. He was nothing more than a silver-tongued trickster that she hoped to never meet again.

Her shoulders slumped as she carried on, freezing as one of the doors opened. Letting out a deep breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, she was relieved to see the monochrome clown exit, laughs bubbling from his throat. Yet to his side, was a little girl.

At first, Harper panicked, thinking she was witnessing one of his victims. The dead children that surrounded his nightmare land were still engraved into her memory. Yet the sight of the blood that drizzled down her cheeks and the unnerving green of her eyes, Harper feared that this child was already dead. Even worse, one of the beings of this mansion.

The clown's silver eyes looked up, widening when he noticed her. Then, a massive smile ripped across his black lips. "Well, if it isn't the maid! Hello, tootsie!" he snickered, the small girl's hand tightening around his claws.

Missing was the child-like innocence that should have lingered within the emerald. A malicious gleam cloaked them, the dried blood within her lashes not helping. The tattered pink dress that clung to her tiny form was splattered with blood, almost making it appear part of the design. Her tiny lips pulled back into a scowl, those unnerving eyes glowing brighter.

"Hello," Harper breathed, it taking all her effort to look away from the small child, back to the joyful clown.

"You're still alive! How funny is that," he snickered, looking down at the little girl. "Sally, this was the maid I was telling you about. Aw, sweets, don't give her such a look," he scolded, shaking his head.

The little girl's eyes refused to leave Harper, although her scowl relaxed. "I can't kill her?" her soft voice asked, that emerald flickering up to the shocked clown.

Chaotic laughs spilled from Laughing Jack as he hunched over, hugging on to the little girl. Harper, on the other hand, was frozen stiff. Just hearing those words come from such a little girl was the perfect mixture of horror and pity.

"She works here, lollipop. I usually slaughter little kiddies, and you usually slice up grown men. Seems kinda pointless, considering what we usually do," he smiled, patting her head as he straightened up. Looking back at Harper, his eyes hardened. "I wont stop you if she gives you a reason to, though," he cackled, causing the little girl to grin.

Furiously blinking, Harper shook her head. She had no plans to anger the little girl, nor did she want to stay in her presence much longer.

"Alrighty then! Well, I better get Sally down to breakfast. Then out for a nice killing," he snickered, his pointed nose twitching. "I'll visit you later, sweets!" he beamed, before continuing down the hall with the little girl.

Harper slumped against the wall, sucking in a deep breath. To think that a little girl was living in this mansion—not to mention she was a killer amongst them was unimaginable. It was funny to think that a eight or nine year old person could cause such fear to swell inside her. It was frightening enough to be around that clown. Now, she got to look forward to one of his _visits_ later.

Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut, regretting not just going back to her room. This place was pure madness. Starting forward, she figured it would just be best to head back to her room. Unaware exactly where she was, she tried her hardest to just retrace her steps. Only when she reached the Doctor's hall did she know exactly where she was—relieved she hadn't become lost. That was the last thing that she needed.

Biting her lip, she stared at his door. Recalling her thoughts from earlier, she remembered how he would be angry if she tried to visit. Shaking the thoughts away, she took a step forward to continue. Hearing voices down the hall, however, caused her to stop. Around the corner was a very loud, very familiar voice.

"I said to stop following me!" came an angry hiss, it clearly belonging to a girl.

A familiar laugh followed. "What, Janey? Is it bothering you? Must be irritating; I'd _hate_ to be followed, especially while I'm killing," the rasping voice snapped. Jeff the Killer.

"One of these days I'm going to manage to kill you," the woman seethed, the voices growing closer. "I made that promise long ago. You should be used to it by now," she growled.

Jeff snorted, as Harper took a step back. "That's something you'll never manage to do, princess. Keep it up and I _will_ put a lovely smile on your face," he hissed, his voice even closer. Their footsteps sounded, as Harper panicked.

He could _not_ see her. After what happened before, she'd rather face the thing called the Rake before that smiling bastard. Ignoring her racing heart, she grabbed the handle to the Doctor's room, yanking it open without a second thought. Tumbling inside, she hurriedly shut it, terrified to face him. _Damn it!_ She never should have wandered the halls!

Biting her lip, she peeked over to see the Doctor's irritated red gaze. He was seated in the corner, a book laid open on his lap. She heard a deep sigh echo against his mask as his eyes narrowed.

"You again," his grumbling voice murmured, shaking his head.

Blood flushed into Harper's cheeks as she slumped against the door, far more than embarrassed. He was going to wind up killing her if she kept this up.

"Good morning," she sighed, shaking her head. How pitiful this truly was.

"What do you need my assistance for this time?" he snapped, shutting the book and tossing it onto the table. The fire in his gaze was boiling, the red adding to the intimidation.

"I don't," she hurried to shake her head, it half the truth. "I um... I wanted to see if you needed help with anything." Her cheeks burned from the lie, and it was clear that he saw straight through it.

"Really now? I remember the first time you came here you were stabbed in the side. Yet you still knocked," he glared, crossing his arms. "Sure there wasn't something you were avoiding outside?"

"Well... um... I heard Jeff the Killer, but I-"

Humiliation filled her to the brim as the Doctor approached, his tall form looming over her. "You need to understand something," he growled, his crimson gaze freezing her against the door. "I have been far more courteous to you than I should have been. Whether you believe it or not, my job is to kill the likes of you, not to be your guard dog," he snarled. "Due to that bastard Slenderman, however, it puts me in a difficult place. I also have to look after the residents of this mansion. Because of him bringing you here, you fall under that category. Do you not understand how infuriating it is?"

Tears welled in Harper's eyes as she snapped them shut. "Well do you not understand how infuriating it is being forced to live somewhere I could constantly die? Having not a soul to go to—and meeting so many different people that _ache_ to kill me? I met a little girl today that asked if she could kill me, Doctor! Whatever odd loophole it is that I fall under concerning you, I'm sorry that it bothers you. But I am thankful it is there, otherwise I would have nothing," she cried out, causing his eyes to widen.

Backing away, he let out an angry huff of air as he slumped into his chair. If it wasn't for the distinct tick from the wall clock, silence would fill the room. Brushing away her tears, Harper tried to calm herself from the sudden explosion of emotion. Remembering the conversation the Doctor and the Slenderman had yesterday, she couldn't help the question that fled from her lips.

"Why can't I be your proxy?"

Within a single second, his head snapped up, his red eyes the size of saucers. Even though his mouth was covered, it was clear that his jaw was dropped. Obviously this question took him from surprise, it taking every ounce of dignity she possessed to keep her head held high.

"For starters..." he mumbled, his eyebrows furrowing, "I haven't the need for one. I said so yesterday. I am not fond of company, nor do I need help of any kind. Second, you have no idea what you are truly asking," he scoffed, shaking his head.

Gritting her teeth, Harper's fists clenched. "I believe I do. If I were a proxy, I wouldn't have a target on my back every time I walked down the halls. I'd be just as safe as Masky and Hoodie. I wouldn't keep running to you, bothering you every single time something bad happened," she reasoned.

His eyes narrowed. "You already have work within the mansion, Harper. It will grow by the day. Slenderman is already your boss—could you handle two?"

"If safety is what I get from it, then yes! You already said you didn't need one, so not much work would have to be done. I'm sure I could find _something_ to do for you," she pressed, almost stooping to begging.

"You have no medical knowledge to assist me, and I doubt you have the stomach for anything else," he brushed off, far more than stubborn. "You haven't the slightest clue what I do. Could you handle seeing a victim? Hearing their screams and yells as I cut into them? Watch their skin fry away when a new medicine I create fails, mimicking acid in their veins? Watch the life flood from their eyes as they die? How about cleaning up the mess once it is all over?

If someone were to work for me, it wouldn't be bringing meals as you know. It wouldn't be simply dusting the room and organizing the shelves. Besides all of that, I have said countless times that I do not need it. I have managed on my own for years and I have been just fine."

Her hazel eyes were blurred as his words sunk in, the reality of what she asked for slapping her in the face. Could she handle such? Not just seeing the gore, but being a part of it? She knew that she could sterilize his tools, hand him things he needed. Simple little things in that nature. But to actually witness humans deaths, watch their pain as the Doctor guiltlessly works... Could she face her conscious each night, assisting him as he took lives, just to save her own? It seemed so heartless.

Biting her lip, she tried to remind herself that his victims would die either way, whether she was there, or not. There was no stopping fate. It all wouldn't be pinned on her shoulders, and it would be the hefty price to pay for protection. She could do it.

"As long as... I am never the one to kill them... I could do it," she swallowed, ignoring her shaking voice. "This would be... good for both of us. That loophole you spoke of would no longer exist. You wont be frustrated helping a human any longer. Work will be easier for you. And I will be safe."

Her eyes refused to meet the red that stared pointedly at her, barely seeing him run a hand through his tousled hair in frustration. "The three proxies within this mansion all kill. It would be expected of you as well. Even if I don't require it, you would have to at least seem willing. It is the one thing each of us have in common here."

"Please."

Her voice could barely be heard, but there wasn't anything else she could say. It seemed as if he would just continue to point out reasons why this couldn't be so, therefore it was her last shot. She might as well hunt down Jeff the Killer if he rejected her again.

An angered growl tumbled from the Doctor's lips as he stood. Poison leaked from his dilated eyes as he glared at her, seeming anything but happy. "If you fail to do as I say _one time,_ I will kill you myself," he snarled, Harper's jaw dropping. "Tomorrow when you are finished with work, you are to come straight here. Whatever I say, you will do it without question. Do not argue with me and _do not piss me off!_ "

Even though his words were furious, Harper couldn't help the large smile that ripped across her face, the sparkle of hope distantly glinting within her eyes. She had more of a chance, now. The proxy of Doctor Smiley. Never would she have dreamed...

But she could live.

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